


The Rest is Still Unwritten

by Darlingheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Canon Compliant, Modern AU, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25362382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darlingheart/pseuds/Darlingheart
Summary: When I leave a fandom I like to post all the things I was working on – sort of a goodbye, a swan song if you will – so this is what I'm doing.This is a collection of unfinished works, some one-shots, some longer stories, some sequels. The only thing they all have in common is that they are all Bellarke and are all unfinished.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Raven Reyes (Minor)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Married At First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> It should go without saying that as all of these are unfinished they are all un-edited and in raw form, so sorry for mistakes. Also, while I am done with Bellarke fic and the100 I'll still be on twitter and tumblr (thought I am bad at tumblr) under oh_darlingheart, so come chat about anything up to 5a of the numbers and anything else.
> 
> Ok, this was based on the reality TV show Married at First Sight and is pretty self explanatory

Octavia wasn’t expecting her brother to be happy about her decision. After all, his name is practically Bellamy “overprotective” Blake and she is marrying a stranger on national television. Not happy she was ready for. Angry she was braced for. But strangely silent was not an option she was expecting.

“Bell, say something.” 

Octavia glances nervously at the crew – having the cameras film this part was obligatory – but she gets nothing from them. Monty just smiles at her from over the top of the camera.

“What the fuck, O.”

“You can’t swear.” She says reflexively.

“I can’t swear?” He replies incredulous, “my baby sister tells me she’s marrying a stranger on national TV and I can’t fucking swear. You have got to be kidding me.”

“Guys, can you give us a minute.” Octavia pleads at the crew. 

Monty looks at Raven, the 1st AD, and waits for her nod. 

“Take five. But then we’re filming this again and we will keep filming until we get a version we can use.” Raven says, the last part is said with a glare at Bellamy.

When they’ve left the room Octavia turns to her brother who is glaring at her.

“Explain.”

“Look, I signed up for a laugh ok, I didn’t think I’d get chosen but actually when I looked into the whole thing, it didn’t sound that bad.”

“What part of marrying a stranger is not that bad?” He snaps.

“Well, it’s married but not. We get married, go on honeymoon for a week, live together for seven weeks and at the end of it decide if we want to stick it out or not.”

“You know nothing about this guy. He could be a serial killer.”

“As could any man I meet. And realistically this guy has gone through more testing than anyone I’d meet normally, he’s unlikely to be a crazy.” Octavia explains.

“I don’t like it.” He huffs.

“I didn’t think you would. But it’s not like I have much luck dating normally and mom wasn’t exactly a great example in the romantic department, so what have I got to lose.” She sighs, “I don’t expect you to be happy but can’t you at least support me. I want you on my side, Bell.”

She knows she has Bellamy then, she can see him soften.

“I’m always on your side.”

*

Clarke is in her office reviewing the dailies from Lincoln telling his friends he was on the show when Raven calls.

“Hey, how’s Octavia?”

“Octavia is great as always. We’re going to have problems with the brother.” Raven says bluntly.

“What kind of problems? In all of Octavia’s VTs she talks about him so fondly.” 

“Yeah he clearly adores her. But he is also a dick and to say he’s not happy about her being on the show is an understatement.”

“Well, that’s not his call to make.” Clarke replies, “Did you get the footage of her telling him.”

“Yeah, eventually. He kept swearing so we couldn’t use his stuff.” 

Clarke chuckles at that, it’s annoying but something she has been known to do on occasion when she doesn’t want to be filmed.

“At least you got something. If he’s really awful we’ll cut around him.” 

“Trust me, you won’t want to cut around him.” Raven laughs.

“Why’s that?” 

“Let’s just say that Octavia is not the only one with good genes in that family.”

“Ok, well send it through and I’ll get Jasper to take a look.”

*

Clarke is watching the footage with Jasper when Raven comes in to the edit suite.

“You were right, he’s hot.” Clarke says glancing up at her.

“Hot or not, there’s about 30 seconds in here where he’s not swearing and about a minute if it doesn’t matter that he’s scowling.” Jasper whines.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s scowling as long as it works with the story. Octavia paints him as loving but overprotective, so that’s the angle we want.” Clarke says patting him on the shoulder as she leaves the room with Raven.

“You heading back to the apartment?” Raven asks.

“Yep. Just need to stop by the office first.”

They’re sharing an airbnb in Atlanta where the show is filming. Both Octavia and Lincoln were local to the city and the tax breaks for filming make it worthwhile to decamp the whole show up there for a season.

“I’m thinking Thai for dinner.” Raven says as they head to the room Clarke is using as an office. As Executive Producer she gets her own space.

“You’re always thinking Thai, but lets get a drink first. It’s been a day.” Clarke says.

Raven chuckles and walks alongside Clarke to her office. She’s limping slightly, a day of filming is always hard for her leg because there’s so much standing behind the scenes but she’ll be fine once she rests.

Clarke is about ask Raven about her leg but gets distracted by her PA, Maya. She’s a quiet girl who looks like she would fall over in a light breeze but Clarke has learnt not to underestimate her. She sees things, watches and learns. In fact Clarke was so impressed that she requested her as her own assistant for this season of the show.

“Here are your messages. Someone called Mr Blake called multiple times, very insistent that you call him back.” Maya tells her handing over a stack of notes.

Clarke exchanges a look with Raven who is grinning.

“Thanks Maya. We’re good for tonight. Head home, enjoy your day off tomorrow and I’ll see you Monday.”

“Night Clarke, night Raven.” Maya smiles.

“Mind if we skip the bar and just get booze on the way home. I don’t feel like being around people.” Clarke says, flipping through the multiple messages from the studio and Mr Blake with a groan.

*

Bellamy is nursing a beer and a foul mood at his local bar.

He normally loves this place, enough of a dive to have character but not too much that he’s worried he’ll catch something. But tonight he’s not in the mood.

“Seriously man, it’s Saturday night and you are clearly giving off some hardcore vibes because it is packed in here and yet, no one has tried to hit on you.” Miller tells him from the other side of the bar.

That’s the other reason Bellamy likes this bar, his childhood friend Miller works here in between acting gigs.

“Maybe they’re too distracted by my good looks.” Bellamy snarks as he drains his beer.

“Nope. Not normally a problem. You have a face like thunder. Spill.”

“It’s Octavia.” Bellamy sighs.

“Of course it is. Hold that thought.” Miller grins, heading down the other end of the bar to serve someone else.

Bellamy pulls out his phone and considers calling Clarke Griffin’s office again but it’s almost 9pm on a Saturday night and he doubts anyone will be there. Plus he feels bad for harassing the nice sounding assistant, who is only doing her job.

He will certainly give Clarke Griffin a piece of his mind when he gets hold of him though and he won’t feel bad about it.

“Ok, go.” Miller says coming back down and putting a fresh beer in front of Bellamy.

“She’s signed up for reality TV.” 

“Survivor?”

“Do they still make that?” Bellamy scoffs.

“Yep.”

“No, not that, thank god.” He sighs, “some thing where she marries a stranger.”

“You’re kidding.” Miller laughs.

“I am really not and don’t shout it about, I signed some scary legal doc that says I can’t talk about it. But I need to talk to someone.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“O says it’s just like online dating but cranked up to 100.”

“Considering you’re suspicious of online dating I can’t imagine that was comforting.” Miller snorts.

“Ugh.” Bellamy groans dropping his head into his hands.

He’s still sitting like that when Miller comes back from serving someone else and he clearly looks bereft because Miller takes pity on him.

“Look, you know better than I do that if you try to convince Octavia not to do this she’ll do it just to spite you.”

Bellamy snorts but looks at Miller.

“So?”

“So be involved. Support her. Go to the wedding and take me as back up so I can be discovered, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Bellamy grins.

“If you’re involved then at least you’ll be able to assess this dude.” After a beat, “I assume it’s a dude.”

“It’s on cable but not that quite progressive. It’s a dude. All she knows is that it’s someone called Lincoln.”

“How many variants of Lincoln Atlanta have you googled?”

“Fuck you.” Bellamy huffs, a small blush rising on his cheeks.

Miller’s laughter rings down the bar.

*

Clarke deals with the messages from the studio on Sunday and hopes that this week will be quieter.

It’s mostly following Octavia and Lincoln, separately of course, to get some b-roll of pre-wedding jitters. She doesn’t really need to be in Atlanta for it — Raven and the team are more than capable. But Clarke is a control freak.

As she drives into the office on Monday she’s hoping Mr Blake has given up on his quest to speak to her, after all, he hasn’t called again.

When she enters her office and there are no more messages Clarke breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe now he’s had a day to calm down he’s decided he’s fine with it all, she thinks optimistically.

At 4.30pm when Maya pops her head round the door to tell her Mr Blake is here, Clarke remembers why she’s not an optimist.

In an ideal world Clarke would avoid him, but this is not an ideal world and she’s getting the sense that the longer she ignores him the worse it will be.

“Send him in.” She tells Maya.

Clarke is sitting at her desk, trying to appear relaxed and confident when Mr Blake walks in.

“Mr Griffin-” he starts before stopping at the sight of Clarke. In a white tee and black blazer, with her blonde hair swinging just above her shoulders.

“Miss Griffin, actually.” She smirks.

Clarke is pleased by his momentary loss of confidence, it makes it easier to prepare herself. She knew he was attractive, obviously, she’s seen him on camera, but in person it’s something more. His hair is wilder than it was on screen and he’s wearing glasses. When he met with Octavia he was dressed casually but now he’s in a blue button down shirt, open at the collar and chinos. 

“Sorry,” he says fumbling, “They said Clarke Griffin was the executive producer and I just assumed...”

“That I’d be a man.”

“Uh, yeah.” He says rubbing the back of his neck and flushing slightly.

Clarke would think it’s cute but she’s pretty sure he’s not going to be put off his agenda of yelling at her because he made a mistake with her name.

“What can I do for you Mr Blake?” Clarke says pointing him to a seat opposite hers.

“It’s about my sister and your show.” He begins sitting down.

Clarke doesn’t say anything, just waits.

“I don’t think she should do it.”

“That’s her decision not yours.”

“Yes, well, clearly she made the wrong one.” 

“She doesn’t seem to think so. In fact when I saw her earlier today she seemed excited.” Clarke says lightly, she can see how her refusal to take his concerns seriously is getting to him.

“That’s because she’s not thinking clearly. Your show is exploitative, manipulative, cheap and gimmicky.”

“Lets take your points one by one shall we?” Clarke sighs. 

“Exploitative. Yes, it could be argued that our show does exploit people. Except we don’t find the participants, they come to us. They go through rigorous background checks and psychoanalytical testing before we even consider them. So if anyone is being exploited, it’s not the participants. Sure you could say that the viewers are being exploited but that can be said of all television, scripted or otherwise.” Clarke begins.

“Manipulative was I think your second point. It’s not. Unlike other reality TV shows we’re not promising fame or fortune. We don’t interview the subjects for six hours to get four minutes of footage. We don’t isolate them, removing them from friends, family and support systems so that they feel that this is the only option. Trust me Mr Blake, this is not the bachelor, the premise is compelling enough without us making your sister cry on camera.”

“Cheap. I assure you that no reality television is cheap.” Clarke continues rolling her eyes.

“As for gimmicky, yes, I’ll concede it is. But it’s entertainment. Is the concept something I’d come up with by myself, no, is it popular, yes. It was started by the Dutch and is now airing around the world with varying success rates.”

Clarke takes a breath and stares at Mr Blake, who is looking more irritated by the second.

“I appreciate that your sister marrying a stranger is not perhaps what you’d planned for her but none of this is my problem.” She says kindly, but firmly.

“It’s ridiculous,” he bursts, “she doesn’t even know the guy.” 

“No she doesn’t, but frankly on paper your sister makes the more worrying prospect and his family and friends are being a lot more relaxed than you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grits.

“Exactly what I said. She’s your sister, so you know her life and thanks to the previously mentioned background checks, so do I. We both know she’s no angel. I cannot and will not tell you anything about Lincoln, the man in question, but I can tell you this. She’s not in danger.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it. You look barely old enough to vote.”

That is the final straw for Clarke, who stands looking murderous.

“Yes, you are. Because it’s my goddamn show. If you want to get your sister out of it you can pay her get-out clause or she’ll be in breach of contract but I suggest you talk to her first. Now please, kindly, get the fuck out of my office.”

“This isn’t over.” He says standing.

Clarke rolls her eyes and calls Maya.

“Maya, Mr Blake is leaving. Please make sure to validate his parking.” She says with a saccharine smile.

Clarke waits until he leaves the room before flopping back down in her chair. It’s less than five minutes before Raven comes in – Clarke has her head on the desk.

“I heard you met the brother.” Raven grins.

“How can someone so hot be such an obnoxious asshole?”

“There’s a surprisingly large correlation between the two.” Raven grins.

“He’s going to make our lives difficult.” Clarke sighs.

“He might try but I don’t think Octavia will stand for it. And the next time we’re doing anything with either of them is wedding dress fitting on Saturday.”

“I’m meant to meet with the studio on Saturday but I’ll see if Maya can shift it around. I want to be there for that.”

*

“Bellamy! Bell!” Octavia shouts letting herself into his apartment.

“In the kitchen. What’s up?” Bellamy shouts back. But he knows. He’s been waiting for this for the last three days ever since his run-in with Clarke Griffin.

“Did you really have a go at the exec producer on my show.” Octavia snaps coming into the kitchen.

“Define have a go…”

“Bellamy…” Octavia growls.

“Not really. I just went to see her to tell her that I thought the show is awful and exploitative and that you shouldn’t be on it.”

“Oh my god! Seriously, none of those things are anything to do with you.” She whines, leaning on the counter.

“I know! But, God O, it’s such a ridiculous concept, I couldn’t help myself.”

“I told you I wanted to do this. It was my idea, I signed up. Yelling at Clarke, who is awesome by the way, will not change my mind.”

Bellamy huffs but doesn’t say anything. He knows he was wrong. And to be honest Clarke made some really strong points, that was what annoyed him so much. 

“You know I applied on a whim, right.” She starts.

“Yeah.”

“Well when I was actually chosen as one of the options, I had to meet with the team before I signed anything. Clarke talked me through everything, she let me meet her team, which is stacked with women and minorities, and gave me access to a brilliant lawyer to make sure that someone was on my side. She also told me that she thought the premise of the show was ridiculous but that ten years ago internet dating was considered weird and now she’s got friends who are married because of it.” 

“So?” 

“So, she’s not a bad guy. She was nice and helpful, her whole team were and they’ve been great every step of the way. In fact the only person acting like an asshole is you.”

“I’m not apologising.” Bellamy huffs.

Octavia rolls her eyes. 

“I didn’t ask you too. You have a choice big brother, get on board or fuck off. I’m meant to be shopping for a wedding dress on Saturday and as my only family I wanted you with me but not if you’re going to drag the whole thing down.”

Bellamy doesn’t miss the emphasis on only.

“I’ll be there. And I won’t be an ass.” He sighs.

Octavia scoffs.

“I won’t be more of an ass than usual.” He amends with a wry smile.

“That’s all I ask.” Octavia says coming over and hip-checking him, “What you cooking?”

And like that, he knows he’s forgiven, for now.

*

Bellamy, Octavia and the crew are already at the bridal boutique when Clarke arrives.

She nods to Monty, and shuffles in behind Raven, trying not get a look at the monitor.

“Ok, great. We can pick up anything else we need after, so let’s head in now.”

“Monroe, babe, can you get them mic’d up.” Raven says turning to their sound crew.

Monroe nods and heads inside the boutique to find Octavia and Bellamy.

“How’s it going?” Clarke asks.

“Good. He’s been surprisingly pleasant.”

“Did you threaten him yet?” 

“Only once, and to be honest, I think I might have wasted it. Seems like he turned up ready to play.” Raven says with a dramatic sigh.

Clarke laughs and links arms with her as they walk into the boutique.

“Ok, so. Octavia you need to pick a couple of dresses to try and Bellamy. Sit here and-”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t fuck up your shot or you’ll murder me.” He sighs wearily, running a hand through his hair.

“I was going to say sit and relax but yeah, the murder one applies too.” Raven smirks.

Bellamy rolls his eyes and it’s then that he sees Clarke.

“Wow, the big guns. You guys clearly don’t trust me.” He smirks.

“Mr Blake, I’m just here to observe, trust has nothing to do with it.” Clarke smiles politely.

“I’ll take your word for it Miss Griffin.” He grins back, cheekily.

“Clarke! Hey! I didn’t know you’d be here for this.” Octavia smiles, and waves, from the other side of the store where she’s looking for dresses.

“Are you kidding? This is my favourite part.” Clarke smiles back.

“Your favourite part when the bride looks like Octavia.” Raven mutters to Clarke with a wry smile.

“If it means Jasper isn’t going to bitch-out about the edit then I am happy.” Clarke says professionally, “But if you’re asking if I’ve noticed that this is one of our more attractive couples for a while, then no comment.” She adds with a laugh before walking over to Monty and discussing camera angles. 

“Ok. I’ve got some options.” Octavia shouts.

“Cool. Monroe happy with sound? Monty, we good?” Raven asks getting everyone into position.

Clarke settles into the corner to watch. She really doesn’t need to be here for this, but isn’t planning on leaving. So she just stays out of the way and makes sure she can see the monitor.

“Seriously, how long does it take to put a dress on?” Bellamy grumbles good naturedly.

“I’d like to see you try, this thing has more buttons than I’ve seen in my life.” Octavia shouts back from the changing room.

When she comes out of the changing room in a simple high-neck white dress with buttons down the back, Clarke knows it’s not the one – this is her third season on the show – but she knows it’s going to make great TV.

Octavia looks shy, a little nervous.

“Fuck O. You’re getting married.” Bellamy says softly, his eyes crinkling as he takes in his sister. 

“Yep, but not in this dress.” Octavia smirks and heads back in to change.

“Sorry for swearing, it was a reflex I promise.” Bellamy tells Raven sincerely.

“I know. It’s fine, I’ll make Jasper cut around it if we need to use it. But seriously, dude aren’t you a teacher you should be better at not swearing.”

“It’s different in the classroom. Something about thirty teenagers staring at you makes it easier to not swear.”

“Fuck, that sounds terrifying. I would definitely swear more.” Clarke says without thinking.

Bellamy grins at her.

“Not possible. For such a demure looking thing you’re such a fucking potty-mouth.” Raven smirks.

“Fuck you.”

“Case in point.” Raven laughs.

Bellamy watches the whole exchange with sharp eyes and a wry smile.

Octavia comes out in two more dresses that are nice but not quite right and Clarke can tell she’s getting fed up. 

“What do you think to this one?” Octavia asks her brother.

“At this point O, they’re all just white dresses.” He sighs tiredly.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. I’m the one getting in and out of them!” She huffs, flouncing back into the changing room.

Clarke is catching up on emails, not looking at the monitor when she feels the whole vibe of the room change. She’s been doing this for too long not to know when they’ve captured magic - and she can feel it now.

“Well?” Octavia huffs.

Bellamy is silent and Clarke can see Raven out of the corner of her eye motion to Monty – who is A camera – to go closer in on his reaction.

“You look amazing.” He says, reverentially.

“Yeah?” She smiles shyly.

“My god, yeah. Wow. He’s going to be blown away.”

“Damn straight.” Octavia grins, deflecting the emotion.

“Seriously, O. You look beautiful.” Bellamy smiles, standing and giving her a hug.

“Watch the dress big brother.” Octavia snarks, but Clarke can see from the monitor that Octavia is just as emotional as her brother. 

Octavia goes to get changed and Bellamy turns to Clarke and Raven.

“Do you guys need me for anything else today?” He asks.

“Nope, we’re all good.” Raven says, “I’ll get Monroe to take your mic.”

“Cool.”

“O. I’m off. Call me later.” Bellamy shouts through the changing room to his sister. 

“Bye!” She trills.

When he’s gone Clarke turns to Raven, “Is it just me or did he run out of here?”

“Oh yeah, he fucking bolted.” Raven says, “But he’s probably all in his feelings. Ten bucks, he cries when he gives her away.”

“I’m not taking that bet. He almost cried then!” Clarke laughs.

But she can’t shake the feeling something is wrong, he really did run out of there. Clarke reminds herself that it’s none of her business and concentrates on finishing up the few things she needs to get done.

Octavia comes out and they run through the list of things that they’ll need her for over the next week. The wedding is the following Saturday, so they’re close now.

“Cool.” Octavia grins, “Just tell me where you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Clarke and Raven walk out with Octavia.

“My brother was better today right?”

“Yeah, he was great.” Raven smiles.

“Good. He said to say if you need more from him he can do it another day but he coaches girls soccer and was totally late, so couldn’t stick around.”

“He what?” Clarke asks.

“He coaches the local girls soccer team. Honestly it’s so cute. If you want footage of him not being a total ass you should see that, all these six and seven year old girls and he’s geeing them up like they’re going into battle.” Octavia says fondly.

Raven is grinning and Clarke can practically hear the other woman’s brain working.

“You know where to find me if you need me.” Octavia says hugging them both and leaving.

“No.” Clarke says.

“What? I didn’t say a word.”

“I know you Reyes. Do you know how many consent forms we’d have to get done, it would be so much extra work for legal.” Clarke says as they walk to their cars, but she already knows Raven is right.

“I’m not saying now, but maybe when Octavia and Lincoln are on honeymoon we could get some pick up footage in case we need it.”

“You know the show is called married at first sight, right? Not hot brothers coaching soccer.” Clarke snarks.

Raven just laughs. 

*

“Come on, get changed?” Raven says pulling Clarke’s headphones off her ears.

“What?”

“Get changed, we’re going out for drinks.”

“Since when?” Clare huffs.

“It’s Saturday night Clarke.” Raven says, as if that provides an answer.

“I’m aware.”

“Good. So stop watching footage – Jasper knows what he’s doing – get changed and lets go creep on this barman Monty thinks is hot.”

Clarke knows this mood of Raven’s and there is really no point in arguing. She closes the laptop, the footage of Bellamy and Octavia paused mid-hug, and climbs off the couch.

“So are we wingman-ing because Raven sucks at that.” Clarke tells Monty with a grin as they enter the bar.

“Fuck you!” Raven laughs, pushing in front of them to enter the bar.

“You’re not wingman-ing. I don’t even know if he’s working tonight, let alone gay or available, he was just hot. And when Jasper and I came by mid-week the bar was cool.”

“I’m paying you too much if you’re slacking off mid-week.” Clarke grumbles.

“You’re really not. It’s just that getting footage of this couple and their ridiculously attractive friends and family is almost too easy.” Monty shrugs.

“Speaking of…” Raven grins wolfishly, nodding to the bar.

“Is that?” Clarke asks.

“Bellamy Blake, yep.” Raven grins.

“Talking to a very hot guy.” Clarke adds.

“Hot bartender.” Monty confirms.

“Well we’ve been spotted.” Raven says, as Bellamy looks over at them, pauses for a moment then waves.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here?” Bellamy asks when they make their way over to him.

“It’s a bar on Saturday night. What do you think we’re doing?” Raven snarks.

“Sorry, stupid question.” Bellamy laughs.

“Miller, these guys are working on that thing with O.”

“Ahh, the film crew that have been dealing with the Blakes. You all deserve a free shot for that.” Miller grins.

“I like you.” Raven smiles at him, “I’m Raven Reyes. Assistant Director and all around badass”

“Nate Miller. Part time bartender and jack of all trades.” Miller smirks.

“So you told your friend about the show.” Clarke says, sitting up on the stool next to Bellamy, as Monty introduces himself to Miller.

“I know I wasn’t meant to but I was freaking out. I had to talk to someone. Plus Miller can keep a secret.” He huffs.

“You were freaking out, but you hid it so well.” Clarke teases.

“Funny.” He deadpans.

Clarke grins at him and accepts the shot Miller puts in front of her.

“To working with family Blake!” Miller laughs, holding up his shot.

“Fuck you all,” Bellamy grumbles but throws back his shot with the rest of them.

It’s just Clarke and Bellamy at the bar now. Miller is serving some other customers and Raven is playing on the old school arcade games with Monty – Clarke tapped out after she lost three times in a row.

“Raven unsurprisingly is kicking ass on those.” She says sitting back next to Bellamy.

“Why do I get the feeling she kicks ass at everything.” He laughs.

“You have no idea.”

They fall into an easy silence, the bar providing the life around them. Clarke thinks it should be akward, given how they met but it’s not.

“Hey, I uhh, owe you an apology.” Bellamy says, tilting his head slightly to look at her.

“Yeah? A specific one or just a more general sorry I’m an ass variety.” She teases.

“I mean the second one is relevant but I shouldn’t have barged into your office and talked to you like that.”

“No you shouldn’t have.” She acknowledges. 

“It’s just my sister and I, we’re all each other has, or has had for a really long time. And sometimes I have trouble remembering she doesn’t need me to fight her battles any more.”

“I know.” Clarke smiles. At Bellamy’s frown she adds, “Extensive background checks on Octavia, remember. You’re mentioned in like, 99 per cent of them.”

“Great.” He huffs embarrassed.

“I know that you’re worried about the whole thing, but I promise I’m not out to get her.”  
“That’s basically what she told me too. But more shouty.” 

Clarke laughs loudly and feels a rush of something when it makes Bellamy smile too.

“I am sorry though.” He adds.

“We’re all good, don’t worry. Besides you were great on camera today and after the actual ceremony we’re wrapped with you. You won’t have to put up with us for too much longer.”

“Right.” He says absently, running his hand through his hair, and Clarke thinks he’s going to say something else.

Before she can press it, or even think about it further Monty comes back, “I’m not playing against her any more, I don’t know why I never learn. She’s a shark.”

“She is.” Clarke commiserated with him.

“Have another drink, it will help.”


	2. Blake's Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by Ocean's Eleven, which I was watching idly one day and thought the delinquents would make excellent con artists and criminals (because they are). I'm actually quite sad I could never be arsed to finish this one because I would've like to read it!

It was a Thursday when Bellamy Blake went into prison and it’s a Thursday when he walks out of prison. It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t matter to anyone, not even him really, but he likes the symmetry of it. Sure there were four years in between those Thursdays, but symmetry is symmetry.

His bowtie is hanging loose around his neck, and his jacket is a little snug but the tux still fits, which is something.

“I always forget they make you leave in what you arrived in.” Octavia grins from the parking lot.

He throws a final irreverent nod towards the guard that buzzes him out as he walks towards his sister.

“I’ve always wondered if they do the same for lifers.” She muses.

He takes in his sister, she looks much the same as she did the last time she visited six months ago. She’s leaning against a car, one he doesn’t recognise, but again it’s been four years.

“They’re serving life, O. They don’t get out. That’s the whole point.” He smirks.

“I didn’t have to come and get you, you know.” She fires back, but she’s grinning, “hey big brother.”

Bellamy opens his arms and she steps into them for a hug, “Thanks for picking me up.”

“It’s not like there were other offers.” She snarks, pulling back.

He rolls his eyes and lets her go, “new wheels?”

“Yeah, a friend lent them to me. I’ll introduce you later. He’s on the straight and narrow, so perfect for your newly reformed life.” She smiles.

“Can’t wait.”

“So what are you going to do with your newly found freedom?” Octavia asks over dinner later.

They’re at a diner near her place and Bellamy is still getting used to being able to choose his dinner options.

“I don’t know, visit some old friends maybe.” He shrugs.

“Bellamy…” Octavia intones.

“Octavia…” he says matching her tone.

“You just got out,” she starts before lowering her voice, “you’re on parole. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. You’ve just got to trust me.” He grins.

“I’ve heard that before.”

*

He isn’t planning on doing anything stupid, he wasn’t lying about that. What he’s planning isn’t stupid it’s so far beyond stupid that it has turned back around and practically makes sense. But he doesn’t feel the need to explain that to his sister, or anyone just yet.

The first stop on the Bellamy Blake release tour takes him to Seattle.

He’s been walking a few people behind Miller, the friend he’s here to see, for less than ten minutes when Miller heads into a dive bar called The Ship.

“You always were a shitty shadow.” Miller snarks from the doorway as Bellamy walks in.

“That’s because I’m a natural born leader.” Bellamy smirks.

“Something like that,” Miller grins before holding his hand out for one of those back slapping bro handshakes, “Seriously man, good to see you but you could’ve just called.”

“Wasn’t sure if you were working and didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Nah, nothing big. This part of town isn’t worth it.”

“In that case, beer?”

When they’re settled at a table in the back with their drinks, Miller speaks, “so what’s up? You didn’t come all the way out here because you missed me.”

“Don’t be so sure, four years is a long time without your pretty face.”

Miller smirks, “that’s what you get for going to jail in a state that has a warrant for my arrest.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Bellamy deadpans.

“I’d prefer there wasn’t a next time, but something tells me this isn’t a social call.”

“It can be both.” Bellamy smirks, “but yeah, I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want to go to Vegas.”

“Got an urge for blackjack?”

“Not exactly. You know the title fight coming up?”

“Roan v McCreary. Yeah, I know it.” Miller deadpans. The fight is big news it’s been making headlines for the last month.

“The vaults will be carrying enough to cover every bet that might be made, which means high stakes.”

“I get that but we can’t exactly just walk into to a Vegas casino play some poker and walk out with millions,” Miller pauses and actually thinks before adding, “unless you’ve got better at card counting in your old age.

“I don’t want to play poker. And I don’t want to go to just one, I want to hit three. The Bellagio, the MGM Grand and the Mirage. They all share a vault, and I want to empty it.”

Miller is quiet for a moment, twisting a beer mat between his fingers.

“Why?” he ask eventually.

“Why not?” Bellamy shrugs.

“That’s not a reason. I know you, you have a reason for everything. There’ll be a reason that you came to me first, a reason that you chose that particular shade of blue this morning. You’re a considered motherfucker, so what’s the reason.” Miller says before adding, “And don’t say money”

“Fine. Last week I walked out of the joint after loosing four years of my life and find you pickpocketing suits in Seattle. Because the house always wins, you play long enough, you never change the stakes the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along you bet big and then you take the house.” Bellamy says sincerely.

“You practiced that, didn’t you?” Miller smirks after a beat.

“A little,” Bellamy smiles, “did I rush it? I felt like I rushed it.”

“Nah, it was good. Pickpocketing suits was a little cold, but not unfair.”

“So you’re in?” Bellamy asks.

“We’re going to need a hell of a crew.” Miller says.

“I know.”

“And a flush backer.” He adds.

“I know.”

Miller nods, “where do you want to start?”

“Reyes.” Bellamy grins, as Miller thought he might.

“Oh good, I always enjoy Texas.” Miller deadpans.

*

“Fuck my life, seriously. Just fuck, my, life.” Raven mutters to herself from underneath an old Ford that’s just gushed oil all over her.

She slides out from under the car, wiping herself down as she stands up. When she swings around she’s got a wrench in her hand and is glaring at Bellamy and Miller.

“What if this had been a gun.” She spits, “I could’ve shot you.”

“I know you don’t keep a gun in here.” Bellamy grins.

“You’re missing the fucking point and you know it. Why are you in my garage?”

“What no hello? How was prison? Don’t you wanna tell me how much you missed my beautiful smile?” Bellamy snarks.

“Glad to see the joint didn’t change you.” She rolls her eyes, before nodding, “Miller.”

“Reyes.” He nods back.

“You two are always so communicative.” Bellamy smirks.

“Fuck you.” They chorus, then turn to grin at each other.

“Seriously, why are you breaking into my garage? Are you even allowed to be in Texas?”

“Yes.” Miller replies as Bellamy says, “No.” Miller and Bellamy share a grin this time, while Raven wipes down her hands and rolls her eyes.

“But I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Raven leans back against the car, “I’m listening.”

Bellamy explains the plan. Raven looks between him and Miller her eyes narrowed, calculated.

“So you want to knock over the MGM Grand, the Bellagio and the Mirage.” She says slowly.

Bellamy nods.

“They’re part of the Woods family collection aren’t they?” Raven says.

“Yeah, they’re the ones that are now being run by the heir, Lexa.” Miller replies.

“I should’ve fucking known.” Raven mumbles.

Bellamy keeps his face blank, but Miller says, “Should’ve known what?”

“Tell me this is not about Clarke.” Raven demands, hands on hips.

“Griffin?” Miller exclaims, turning to face Bellamy now, “Why would this be about your ex wife?”

“Oh you don’t know.” Raven chuckles humourlessly, “Clarke is curating the art collection for the Woods group now and if rumours are to be believed she’s also dating Lexa.”

“Tell me you do not want to pull of one of the most complicated and dangerous heists I have ever heard of to win back your ex.” Miller sighs, going over to stand by Raven both of them looking at Bellamy.

“It’s not about Clarke.” Bellamy tells them.

Raven and Miller scoff.

“Ok, it’s not entirely about Clarke.” Bellamy amends.

“For fucks sake.” Miller grumbles.

“I cannot believe you! Actually I can.” Raven sighs.

[REST OF THE CREW

Rueben Tishkoff – Thelonious Jaha (Rich backer)

Frank Catton – John Murphy (Casino employee and con man)

Livingston Dell – Monty Green (tech)

Basher Tarr – Jasper Jordan (Explosives)

'The Amazing' Yen – Harper MacIntyre (acrobatics)

Saul Bloom - Charles Pike (older con artist)]


	3. Catching Feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame Pharrell and that annoying song for this one. Oh, and poptarts, blame poptarts. There was literally no more thought than that...

“Don’t be afraid to catch feels”

Clarke thinks she can actually feel her mouth drop open. It is enough to momentarily distract her from the big dinner decision she’s making of whether to have chocolate or strawberry pop tarts.

“Did you just quote Katy Perry at me?” She laughs at Raven.

Raven is sitting on the other side of the breakfast bar in Clarke’s tiny kitchen. Well breakfast bar might be a too generous description for the piece of wood balanced on two other pieces of wood that Miller and Bellamy built last summer, although to be fair it is still standing so plus one for them.

“All I’m saying is that if you don’t open yourself up to the possibility of a relationship then you’ll never know.”

Clarke didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so haughty while wearing an oil stained denim shirt, but Raven is proving her wrong.

She grabs a strawberry pop tart and leans opposite Raven.

“You know I love you,” She tells her gesturing with a piece of pop tart, “but I am not taking relationship advice from you.”

Raven huffs and leans over to steal some of Clarke’s pop tart.

“You know I have a point. We are literally only became friends because we were both dating the same guy. And since then you’ve not exactly been the poster child for healthy relationships.” Clarke continues.

Raven pouts at Clarke, but doesn’t argue, so she thinks it counts as a win.

“Maybe you should be the one who’s not afraid to catch feels.” Clarke smirks swiping her pop tart out of reach.

“Who is catching feels?”

“And why on earth are we saying feels?”

Octavia walks in followed by Bellamy, both of them looking as ridiculously attractive as always, like something out of one of those 90s Gap commercials.

“Ugh.” Is all Clarke offers.

“No seriously, why are we saying feels” Bellamy asks smirking at Clarke, “And why are you eating a pop tart?”

“We’re saying feels because I was telling Clarke here that she needs to embrace emotion if she wants to stop her dating life from being a barren well.” Raven is smirking, and looking pointedly between Bellamy and Clarke.

Hmm, Clarke thinks, she should’ve known she’d pay for her healthy relationships comment. Raven is convinced that Bellamy and Clarke are harbouring deep romantic feelings for each other. And while Clarke can’t speak for him, obviously, she doesn’t think about him like that. Well, if she’s honest, occasionally she does but it’s not exactly romantic, more like sex dreams and the occasional thought about what it would be like to hold his hand. Hardly feels.

“Uh huh.” Bellamy scoffs shaking his head.

“That is true Griffin, if you keep running away from feelings you’ll be as sad as Bell here.” Octavia grins.

She’s also in on the whole Bellamy and Clarke forever thing.

“Hey!” he says indignantly, glaring at his sister.

Bellamy throws an arm around Clarke’s shoulders, “we’re just fine, thank you. We do not need your opinions our love lives.”

Clarke leans into him without even thinking about it.

The matching smirks on Raven and Octavia’s faces make her instantly regret that, so she moves away from Bellamy to grab a chocolate pop tart out of the cupboard, giving her an excuse to avoid their knowing looks.

When Clarke turns back around with my coveted pop tart in hand Bellamy is gaping at her.

“What?” she huffs.

“Tell me that’s not dinner.”

“It’s not.”

He raises an eyebrow at her and smirks. And, Clarke thinks, if she notices its a cute look on him that’s not her fault, it’s just because she’s an artist and therefore observant.

“The strawberry flavour was dinner, this is dessert.” Clarke laughs.

He leans over to her and breaks off a corner of the pop tart, “oh what are we going to do with you.”

His smile is so soft Clarke can’t help return it with one of her own, which drops abruptly when she notices Raven and Octavia sending knowing smiles over Bellamy’s shoulder at her.

“Ugh.” She huffs moving away from Bellamy to glare at Raven, “now I have that stupid song in my head.”

Raven laughs as Octavia starts singing, “Don’t be afraid to catch feels, something-something-something feels.”

It’s so ridiculous that both Bellamy and Clarke start laughing, leaning next to each other watching Octavia and Raven shimmy in her tiny kitchen. And if Clarke thinks it’s nice standing like this with him, it’s just because they’re all friends, nothing else.

It’s been a week since the feelings conversation in Clarke’s kitchen and she’s beginning to think Raven might be part witch.

Ever since that night she has not been able to stop thinking about Bellamy. On Sunday when they were all over at his apartment, every time he came close to Clarke she noticed something new about him, and not in a platonic way.

And on Tuesday at the bar and she noticed the way the light was shining in his eyes turning them thousands of shades of brown. She even dreamt about his freckles.

Clarke’s brain is on Bellamy overdrive and although it’s Friday, she’s looking forward to a quiet evening away from him, from all of them.

So of course when she opens the door to her flat the first thing she sees is Bellamy, Miller, Monty and Octavia all squished on the couch playing Mario Kart. Well, Octavia is just heckling.

“Hello people who don’t live here.”

“Hi!” they all shout back and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Do I want to know how you all got in?” She asks, mock stern.

“I have a key.” Monty says.

“So do I.” Bellamy says.

“Why does Monty get a key and I don’t?” Octavia pouts.

“I don’t know why Monty has one but Bellamy has one for emergencies.” She says putting emphasis on emergency.

“Raven gave me one for emergencies.” Monty tells me, also putting the emphasis on emergency.

“What! Why didn’t she give me one, I’m responsible.” Octavia shouts.

“Right well then, that begs the question…” Clarke start walking over to them, “what’s the emergency.”

Four heads to turn to look at Clarke.

“Uhh…” Monty starts.

“I’m meeting Raven.” Octavia supplies.

“I brought O.” Bellamy fills in.

“I just came because they were coming over.” Miller adds.

Clarke just laughs.

“So no emergency.” She clarifies.

She’s about to perch on the end of the ancient couch but then realises that would put her thigh next to Bellamy’s lean broad shoulders, which she definitely has not been thinking about. This sudden realisation makes her stop suddenly, which of course Bellamy notices.

He gives her a weird look, which she tries to ignore.

“I’ll get some snacks.” She covers, heading to the kitchen.

Fucking Raven, she thinks as she opens the fridge to see what there is in the way of alcohol.

Raven is coming into the flat as Clarke comes out of the kitchen holding an empty box.

“We have guests… and no food,” Clarke says holding up the empty box, “not even pop tarts.”

“Shit, it was my turn to do grocery shopping.” Raven admits.

“Indeed it was. So now we have nothing to offer the people that turned up uninvited.”

“We brought our own beer.” Miller shouts from the couch holding up a bottle at the same time Octavia says, “technically, I was invited.”

“Also,” Bellamy starts turning around on the couch to look at Clarke, “I don’t know if you’re aware but pop tarts are not groceries.”

He is looking adorable and smug at the same time, which makes Clarke want to punch him and kiss him. A combination she is becoming increasingly familiar with.

She does neither and instead settles for rolling her eyes.

“Yes but you know we can’t cook”

At Raven’s indignant, “hey”

“Well Raven can cook but it usually takes five hours and about as many days to clean the kitchen afterwards.”

“That was one time.” She huffs as everyone laughs.

She’s right, it was one time. The month Clarke and Raven moved in, Raven decided to cook some recipe she found on pinterest, which was some kind of spaghetti tray bake. Clarke is pretty sure there is still spaghetti stuck to the ceiling.

“Don’t forget the Thanksgiving incident of 2015.” Monty says.

“Ah yes, the simultaneous raw and burnt turkey.” Octavia says faux wistfully putting a hand on her heart.

“That was mostly Clarke’s fault.” Raven says walking over and plucking the controller out of Bellamy’s hand.

He doesn’t seem to concerned to lose his turn, just rolls his eyes at Clarke.

“I refuse to take the blame for that. You asked me what temperature you I put the oven on, I said high. I assumed you had the common sense to know I had no clue and you should look it up.” Clarke huff.

“You are literally a genius after all.” She adds as an afterthought, because Raven is.

“You should know geniuses have no common sense.” Raven tells Clarke loftily from where she is now sitting on Bellamy’s lap, which Clarke has no jealous feelings about, obviously. Especially not the way his head is resting on her shoulder to see the screen.

“Well, we have no food,” Clarke says “and assuming you uninvited heathens want to eat we need something. So I’ll go to the store.”

Clarke is not offering because she actually cares what anyone eats, it’s the 21st century there are apps to make sure you can eat, but because she wants to put some distance between herself and Bellamy.

More specifically put some distance between herself and the jealous feeling she’s getting watching him and Raven sit like that.

“I’ll come with.” Bellamy says, because of course he does. “It’s not like I’m actually playing.”

He pushes Raven off him, who just laughs.

“You snooze you lose Blake.”

“I wasn’t snoozing you literally took the controller out of my hand and sat on me.” He laughs.

“Exactly.” Raven replies.

And Clarke doesn’t notice how good he looks when he laughs or how much younger it makes him look when he’s not so stressed all the time. She definitely doesn’t notice any of that.

They’re heading out of the apartment with a list that includes, chips, beers and ‘general snack shit’ when Bellamy puts his hand on her lower back. Which isn’t unusual, it’s Bellamy that’s what he does. But Clarke doesn’t normally jump when he does it.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” she squeaks, “just been a long day.”


	4. It's a Little Bit Funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My reasons for writing this are basically Miller's reasons for 'making them watch Moulin Rouge' make of that what you will.
> 
> Also for later reference, this is the [French bear](https://youtu.be/3393O1uD_w8)

When Raven thought about Bellamy confessing his feelings for Clarke, and she thought about it quite a lot, there was money riding on the outcome after all. She always assumed he’d be drunk. Drunk Bellamy was confessional Bellamy. She certainly didn’t think it would be at movie night and she definitely didn’t think he’d be confessing to himself.

They were all at Clarke’s place for movie night. It’s a monthly ritual to make sure they actually spend time together. The location and ‘movie-picker’ is meant to rotate but in reality only the ‘movie-picker’ changes. Ever since the disastrous night at Jasper’s it’s always been at Clarke’s place, she has the nicest apartment, biggest couch and because it’s in a nice neighbourhood no one is worried about getting stabbed on the way home. Her TV is smaller than Miller’s though, which is something he grumbles about every time it’s his turn as ‘movie-picker’

“This would be better on my TV.” He grouches from his seat on the couch.

The positions for movie night don’t change either. Miller is at one end of the couch squished into the corner with Monty next to him. Next to Monty is Raven, and on her side in the corner is Bellamy. Jasper’s on the lazy boy under the agreement that if Harper or Murphy can make it he sits on the floor, which is the only reason he gets such a coveted seat because most of the time, like tonight, he’s on the floor. Octavia is in the big armchair, which she shares with Lincoln when he can make it. Clarke sits on the floor between Raven and Bellamy’s legs.

Clarke’s floor seat caused a lot of arguments at first, mostly from Bellamy who didn’t think it was fair. But she won, as usual, because she actually likes being on the floor and can get up for snacks, drinks and to let the food deliveries in.

Raven thinks its because Clarke likes being able to lean on Bellamy but she’s keeping that opinion to herself for now.

“Ugh, jar!” Harper grumbles at Miller. “You know the rules.” She holds out her hand and Miller gives her a dollar to go in the movie rule jar.

“Besides, we are watching Moulin Rouge. You can literally watch this on a phone and still get the idea.” Octavia smirks.

Moulin Rouge had been a rogue choice from Miller who normally prefers films with subtitles.

“First, don’t be rude about a masterpiece.” He huffs, which makes them all laugh, “and second don’t blame me. Blame Big Little Lies, which got me thinking about Nicole Kidman and then blame the winter Olympics and figure skating, and then blame Ewan McGregor for leaving his wife, which got me thinking about Ewan and before I knew it I was down the rabbit hole.”

“Your brain worries me, man” Raven teases.

Monty clears his throat pointedly and points at the jar. Another movie night rule is that too much talking over the movie means you have to put a dollar in the jar. So they all shut up.

Bellamy has been snarking through most of the film but just quietly so he doesn’t have to pay up the cash. Raven is smirking along to his commentary knowing this is not his kind of film at all. They’re at the scene when Nicole Kidman is trying to seduce Ewan McGregor and instead he bursts into Your Song, when it happens.

“Pfft. As if you’d forget the colour of the eyes of the person you love. You’d know they were blue.” Bellamy scoffs.

And he says it aloud. Loud enough for Raven and Octavia to hear, loud enough for him to cough awkwardly and say, “I mean Nicole Kidman famously has blue eyes.”

“And red hair.” Clarke adds her voice a bit strained.

“Guys, come on. This song is a classic.” Jasper says, which quietens them down.

Raven knows that Bellamy is embarrassed because he huffs and makes and excuse to get another beer in the kitchen. Which gives her an excuse to get her phone out.

Pulling up the group chat: **_‘Do you think they know $$$$$$’_** she sends off a quick message.

_Raven Reyes:_ Uhh… guys… please tell me you all heard that

Everyone’s phones, except Clarke’s and Bellamy’s go off, just as Bellamy walks back in the room.

“Jar.” He says sitting back down. Phones having the volume on are another rule.

“Who text you all?” He asks.

“Postmates.” Raven lies easily, “They’d text you too if you’d download the app.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t need…” his argument is cut off by Miller.

“Dude, jar. And everyone shush. I was quiet for Raven’s dumb film last time.”

“Hey!” she shouts, leaning over Monty to poke him and taking the subtle opportunity to look at her phone without Bellamy seeing.

_Harper_ : No, what???

_OBlake_ : Bell just said that you wouldn’t forget the colour of eyes the person you love has, you’d know they were blue!!!!!

_JJ_ : OMFG. Is this is it? Is this the moment????

_Monty_ : who had movie night in the bet?

_Murphy_ : How did I miss him declaring his love… Fml

I’d have used that against him forever

_Nate Miller Nate Miller:_ technically he didn’t *confused emoji*

_Murphy_ : wait, what?

_Lincoln_ : this is a lot of confusing information to get in one go

_OBlake_ : so?

_OBlake_ : is the bet’s still on?

_Raven_ : lets discuss when he’s not sitting next to me trying to read my messages!

When the movie ends Harper, Monty, Jasper and Miller are all in various stages of tears and Octavia is laughing at them.

“He literally says at the beginning, ‘the woman I love is dead’ you knew there wouldn’t be a happy ending guys.”

“You can still hope though.” Jasper whines.

“He couldn’t even remember the colour of her eyes.” Raven teases just to see the effect it has on Bellamy, “how much did he love her really.”

“Maybe he’s colour blind.” Monty offers.

They all laugh but it’s not lost on Raven that both Bellamy and Clarke have been very quiet.

“I said I’d meet Linc at the bar,” Octavia says pointedly standing up.

“Hmm, I could go a drink. I’ll come with.” Raven adds quickly, making big eyes at Miller and Monty as she stands.

“Not for me, early start.” Harper says, “but I’ll walk out with you.” She kicks Jasper as she stands, which gets a quick “me too,” out of him.

They all agree to go for a drink, or at least all head out except Clarke who says, “well I’m not leaving my house, just to come back to it,” with a laugh as she sees them all out.

They’re half way down the street when Raven realises that if Bellamy is with them, they won’t be able to actually talk about the bet.

She’s just about to message everyone when he says, “Actually guys I’m not feeling it. I’m just going to head home.”

“You sure big brother?” Octavia asks concerned.

“Course, don’t drink too much. It’s only Thursday.” He says to all of them hugging his sister.

“Did no one tell you Blake, Thursday is the new Friday,” Raven says.

“And Wednesday is the Thursday.” Jasper adds, “whoo!” running off down the street.

“One of you make sure he gets home safe, please.” Bellamy says looking at Miller and Raven, who after him and Clarke are the next most responsible… kinda.

“Aye, aye Cap’n.” Harper salutes walking off down the street.

Raven, Harper, Octavia, Miller, Monty and Jasper are all crowded around the end of the bar. Luckily Lincoln and Murphy both work there so they’re able to have what Jasper calls ‘a full team summit on the state of Bellarke.”

At this stage there’s $160 dollars riding on the confession, so it’s fair to say everyone is invested.

“So to clarify, he didn’t actually tell Clarke he liked her?” Lincoln confirms coming back to the group after serving a customer.

“Nope.” Octavia answers.

“Which means… Raven and Monty,” Miller says checking his phone where he keeps the details of the bet, “get nothing.”

“Hey, why are we sharing?” Raven complains.

“Movie night.” Monty says as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah but movie night used to be an ever changing feast, I’m the one that said Clarke’s apartment.” Raven counters.

This sets off a well-worn argument between the group with neither Monty nor Raven willing to back down.

“Uh huh,” Miller say clearing his throat to get them all to focus. He takes his job as the note taker of the ‘Oblivion squad’ meetings very serious.

“To recap. We think Bellamy has just realised the extent of his feelings for Clarke,” Miller carries on despite everyone’s groans, “but as he didn’t actually confess nobody wins anything and the bet rolls on.”

“How is my brother so fucking oblivious.” Octavia whines, “how? How can he only just realise?”

The others shrug. The bet has been going for nearly two years now, with each of them putting in a dollar a month. The original kitty was $8. At the time most of them were final year students and it seemed like a lot of money.

“Right everyone, dollar.” Harper says holding her hand out. As the treasurer she is in charge of money being the most-trustworthy of the bunch, and she literally takes a dollar from them each month, not trusting anyone to pay up in one go.

“Now, confirmation of what everyone has money riding on.”

“Clarke’s place.” Raven says

“Movie night.” Monty adds.

“Her birthday,” Harper says.

“At a wedding” Jasper sighs.

“Someone would need to get married for that to happen Jas.” Raven teases.

“Hey there are options,” he says, looking pointedly at Lincoln and Octavia who ignore him.

Lincoln just adds his choice, “Grocery store.”

“At the bar when he’s drunk.” Miller says.

“Graduation. How was I to know it would take so long, they’re both smart people. I didn’t think they were this stupid!” Octavia pouts.

She’s refusing to change her answer on the grounds that she’ll share Lincoln’s winnings with him and she’s not entirely given up home of persuading Bellamy or Clarke to do a go back to school just so she can get back in the game.

“Never,” From Murphy. And it is his actual answer in the carefully crafted notes that Miller has. Murphy’s just in it for the ride at this point.

“Ok. Done. I’ll see you all next month for another chapter of why won’t he tell her: the Bellamy story.” Miller snarks getting up to leave.

“Wait!” Raven says, putting her hand out to stop him.

“Do we want to win the bet or do we want them to get together?” she asks.

It’s a pretty even split of the group wanting happiness and what is now $168.

“What are you thinking Reyes?” Murphy asks.

“What if we help them along?” she says as everyone groans. “No, hear me out. We thought he knew but just hadn’t said anything but what if it was that he didn’t actually know… we could have years more of this bullshit.”

That does get them all to pause. Because as great as money is, and it is, Clarke and Bellamy are their friends and ultimately they do care about them.

“What do you have in mind?” Octavia asks.

Lincoln is the first to start it. They’re all hanging at the bar on Friday, as usual, when he announces that the group of girls all wearing pink – some kind of bachelorette party – have given him $100 to play the bride’s favourite tracks.

“Oh god,” Clarke complains looking over at them, “she looks like she has truly appalling taste.”

Lincoln winks at the girls. It’s only a half lie after all, most of them are the bride’s choice just one isn’t and the fact that the bride is one of the girls he teaches kickboxing too is neither here nor there.

The first few tracks aren’t that bad, it’s definitely a change of pace from the background-indie that the bar normally plays.

“This is not terrible,” Raven laughs surprised.

“There’s still time.” Bellamy offers.

There’s some Killers, Mr Brightside, obviously. A Nelly track that has Bellamy rolling his eyes and then seemingly out of nowhere, a few bars of piano start playing and then there’s Elton John.

It’s a little bit funny/ this feeling inside

“Oh God, Elton John. This song is so twee.” Miller laughs.

“But he’s one of yours.” Raven teases.

“I don’t have to like everyone who’s gay Reyes.” Miller says rolling his eyes.

It’s light banter, but they’re all playing a part. All except Clarke and Bellamy of course, who are oblivious.

“But it’s Elton man, everyone likes Elton!” Murphy shouts from the kitchen earning a laugh from all of them.

“Did you know that Prince William and Princess Kate had this at their wedding.” Harper says.

And it somehow manages to not be weird because Harper would know that kind of thing – she loves the Royal family.

This takes the conversation onto a Royal tangent that was not planned for but works to make the whole thing look natural. By the time it’s the ‘bride’s playlist’ has finished everyone is laughing around as normal.

_**‘Do you think they know $$$$$$’** _

_OBlake_ – did you see my bros face!!!

_OBlake_ – I thought he was gonna choke on his drink

_Raven Reye_ s – I don’t think you should be so happy about the thought of Bellamy choking

_OBlake_ – I’d save him obvs, I’m first aid trained

_Harper_ – Or Clarke could

_Harper_ – She is a dr

_Murphy_ – That’s not a bad idea…

_Nate Miller Nate Miller_ – Lets call that phase two

_Nate Miller Nate Miller_ – if the song plan doesn’t work

_OBlake_ – NO ONE IS KILLING MY BROTHER

_Raven Reyes_ – Chill out O. The plan will work

_JJ_ has changed the group name to: **_The song plan OR DEATH_**

_Monty_ – change the name Jasper!

_Harper_ – again I ask why only Jasper is an admin…

_JJ_ has changed the group name to: **_MY GROUP MY RULES_**

_Raven Reyes_ – don’t think we won’t leave this group and set up a new one without you

_Nate Miller Nate Miller_ – setting one up right now…

_JJ_ has changed the group name to: **_Bellamy4Clarke 4eva_**

_JJ_ – happy now????

_Lincoln_ – Can you guys not message when I’m working

_Lincoln_ – It’s hard to follow

_Lincoln_ – And the notifications are annoying

_Lincoln_ – but that totally worked right?

_Raven Reyes_ – Yep

_OBlake_ – Totally

The following Sunday the group are all at Octavia and Raven’s for brunch. It’s the only day they all get off and although Clarke would normally host, she had a late shift at the hospital, so Octavia volunteered.

All that mostly means is watching, Murphy, Miller and Bellamy in the kitchen while her and Raven shout out where various things are.

“How do you not have a paring knife?” Murphy moans

“Firstly, we don’t cook.” Raven tells him.

“And secondly, we don’t cook.” Octavia laughs, “besides what the fuck is a paring knife.”

“It’s,” Murphy starts and then gives up, “you know what, it’s lost on you two anyway.”

“Clarke!” They hear from the other room.

“I’m guessing Clarke’s here.” Miller snarks.

“Hear that Bell, Clarke’s here.”

“Yes Octavia, I heard that.” He tells his sister rolling his eyes.

“Griffin, you’re here! And you brought booze.” Raven laughs, “I think I love you.”

“I love you too you crazy person.” She says sitting next to Raven and Octavia at the table putting down three mimosas.

“And the booze is actually from Lincoln who is in the other room making drinks and muttering something about always being a bartender, while keeping Monty and Jasper away from the drinks cabinet.”

“Aww, I’d go and rescue him but I’m comfy.” Octavia laughs from the other side of Raven.

“And you have a drink.” Raven says

“And I have a drink.”

The three girls cheers and look up to see Murphy, Miller and Bellamy looking at them.

“Real nice that is, we’re cooking for you and nothing…”

“Yeah Princess,” Bellamy says, “Where’s mine?”

“We can share?” Clarke smiles up at him, holding her drink out.

Octavia kicks Raven under the table unnecessarily, she’d very much already noticed.

“I am not sharing,” Raven glares at Miller and Murphy, “don’t even think about it.”

“Little Blake, you know you’re my favourite.” Miller smiles.

“I know. But get your own damn drink.”

“I love mimosas, it’s like Christmas.” Clarke sighs.

This time Raven kicks Octavia because it’s the exact opening they need, and they didn’t even have to force it.

“Well, if you want to feel really Christmassy. Let me tell you about the youtube rabbit hole I fell down this week.” Raven begins.

“I’m listening,” Clarke says turning to her with a smile.

Raven’s youtube rabbit holes are legendary – they all still quote the French bear to each other.

“So you know that Elton John song from the other night,” Raven begins grabbing her laptop, she doesn’t look at Clarke or Bellamy, knowing the others are on it, “so I put it into youtube and after watching a lot of bad renditions of it on The Voice, I stumbled onto these epic Christmas ads.”

“From what I can work out, because I did some googling, obvs, there’s this department store in the UK, kinda like Macy’s and they’re known for Christmas ads.” Raven says tapping on her laptop, “Apparently 2010 was when it all went crazy but I think you’ve got to watch from ’09.”

“Guys come and watch Christmas ads.” Octavia shouts into the other room, and soon all of them are huddled around Raven’s laptop.

“Ok, so this is the 09 one.” Raven says pulling up the Christmas ad.

“Is that an acoustic cover of Sweet Child of Mine?” Murphy huffs as they watch the ad.

“Yep, and shush.”

“Cute, but I don’t get the fuss.” Clarke says as it ends.

“You’ve gotta watch ‘em all.” Raven says pulling up the next one and giving Octavia the look.

“This is apparently the one that turned this whole thing into a phenomenon.” Raven says.

It’s a little bit funny/this feeling inside

“That fucking song.” Bellamy grouches.

“And another unnecessary acoustic version,” Murphy groans. He knew it was coming of course, Raven filled them all in on the plan, but he really does hate acoustic versions of classics.

“That one was cute, though.” Monty says.

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees quietly.

They watch the rest of them with just a bit of grumbling – why is this whiny chick covering the Smiths from Murphy – and variations of oh it’s so cute from everyone else.

They’ve just finished watching the most recent one and are arguing about whether the monster is cute or if it’s worrying that the kid’s only friend is imaginary.

The rest of brunch is taken up talking about the random Christmas adverts and Murphy moaning about acoustic versions of classic songs. But, Raven thinks she see Bellamy and Clarke share a few more meaningful looks than usual.

**_Bellamy4Clarke 4eva_ **

_Raven Reyes_ \- Anything?

_Murphy_ – why the fuck are you up so early?

Raven Reyes – I have a job… like a normal person

_OBlake_ – no nothing

_OBlake_ – I tried to convince Bell to drop her home last night but she drove so said it didn’t make sense.

_Raven Reyes_ – it’s been a month

_Raven Reyes_ – maybe we give up

[The delinquents keep finding covers of your song until BC call them out on it and say they've actually been dating since the Moulin Rouge film night

"I realised and I did something about it. For fucks sake guys, I do actually have game." Bellamy complains.

"He does. Also he has a pretty face, which ups his game." Clarke confirms with a smirk.]


	5. The SAS of The Building World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason I never finished this is that I found out scaffolders are not a thing in the US like the are in the UK and without that it kinda stopped making sense. Scaffolders in the UK are basically the SAS of the building world, they give zero fucks and are often "lads"

At first she thinks its part of her dream. She’s dreaming about playing the piano – which she can’t actually do – so the clinking sound is an accompaniment. But then it doesn’t stop, in fact it gets louder and there is shouting involved. And when she begrudgingly opens her eyes Clarke can tell that the noise is coming from outside. She tries to ignore it, she really does, but they’re just so loud. A low rumble of voices and the occasional word she can make out over the constant dinging of metal.

If Clarke had slept for more than three hours she might have taken a look at the oversized clock on her wall before wrenching open the window, but she didn’t.

“Can you keep the noise down,” she shouts, “some of us are actually trying to sleep!”

She’s leaning out of her window, looking down to the men below standing on a couple of boards. The two guys stop to look up at her. One of them is in a beanie and throws a cursory glance at her before looking at the other one. The other one has wild dark curls and when he looks up it’s with a smirk.

“It’s 10am sleeping beauty. Not my fault you had a late night.” He says with a leer.

“It’s not… I didn’t. Fuck you! Just keep it down.” She snaps.

“We are well within the noise regs for legal working times.” He says lazily, as though this is a common argument.

“Ugh!” Clarke groans and slams the window shut.

She hears his laugh, and comment of ‘fucking princess’ just before the clanging noise starts up again.

Clarke knew that there was going to be building work, she remembers getting the flyer through the door, she’d just forgotten that it was this week. The week she agreed to swap onto night shifts for Monroe.

By the end of the week Clarke has decided she’s going to murder the scaffolders, especially the handsome curly haired one. Yes, she noticed. She’s sleep deprived, not blind.

Every time she sees them they are loudly shit-talking, or clanging the metal rods and she wants to throttle them. The fact that the handsome one has taken to calling her princess with a sneer, that is still just the right side of attractive, when they cross paths doesn’t help either.

Clarke has just finished her shift and is walking to her car when her phone rings.

“Hey Monty.” She answers tiredly.

“Where are you?”

“Just leaving the hospital. Going to go home and change then will come to the bar. I haven’t forgotten.” She sighs.

The main reason Clarke hadn’t forgotten that she’d agreed to go to the bar to finally meet Monty’s new boyfriend is because she’d had to work a double shift to get the evening off.

“Yeah, no. You’re not going home. Come straight here.” He tells her.

“What? No! I’m in my scrubs and have been at work for a million hours.”

“Exactly. If you go home you’ll sit down, for just a minute and then will fall asleep.”

“That happened once.” She grumbles.

“About four times actually, but it’s ok.”

“I’ll go home, change and won’t fall asleep. I promise.” She sighs.

“Yeah, don’t believe you.” He says, from in front of her.

“Monty, why are you sitting on the hood of my car?” Clarke asks hanging up her phone and wondering just how tired she is.

“Because I didn’t think you’d be in a fit state to drive and I don’t trust you to not go home and sleep.” He says reasonable.

“If you think I’m that much of a zombie, then why do you even want me to meet your boyfriend.” Clarke argues.

“I’ve been seeing him for months Clarke, months. You’re my best friend other than Jasper and he doesn’t live in this timezone.”

Clarke slumps, Jasper moving away had been hard for Monty and she had promised she’d be there.

“I really like him Clarke and I want you two to meet but he works all day and you work all of the time. This is my window and I am making the most of it.” He says, grabbing her keys and unlocking her car.

“I look like shit.” Clarke whines.

“Look at it this way. You can use the fact that you’ve come straight from the hospital to your advantage.”

“How’s that exactly.” Clarke replies rummaging in her bag for make up or at the least a hairbrush.

“You can say that you’re only coming for one and as you’re clearly in your work stuff, you can go home easily.”

“Sounds fake but whatever. I still look like I’ve died.”

Monty says smiling the smile of a man who knows he’s won, “You’re just meeting Nate, and he’s gay so he really won’t care what you look like.”

But of course, it’s not just Monty’s boyfriend Nate.

The first person Clarke sees when they enter the bar is the hot asshole scaffolder who is talking to someone she recognises as the other hot, but less infuriating, scaffolder.

She doesn’t even have time to be annoyed that they’re at the same place as her before embarrassment overtakes her because Monty is leading the way over to them and hugging the less infuriating one.

“Oh god.” She mutters.

“Clarke, this is Nate. My boyfriend.” Monty says turning to her with a proud grin.

“Nate, this is Clarke. The best friend.”

Clarke determinedly does not look in the direction of the hot asshole, even though she can practically feel his smirk.

Clarke smiles at Nate, who is trying so hard not to grin it looks like he might pass out.

“Oh, and this is his best friend Bellamy.” Monty adds.

“Princess.” Bellamy drawls.

“It’s Dr Princess actually.” Clarke snaps aware she is not making the most sense.

That seems to be what sets Nate off because he is now full on chuckling, not even bothering to hide it.

“What have I missed?” Monty asks, looking between them all.

“We’ve already met. Kinda.” Clarke sighs, fiddling with the hair that she piled on her head when she couldn’t find a hairbrush. “They’re doing work on my building.”

“Wait, Clarke is the hot blonde Bellamy keeps winding up.” Monty says to Nate. Not missing the blush that rises on Bellamy’s cheeks. Serves him right she thinks.

“Yep.” Nate grins.

“This is amazing.” Monty laughs.

“I’m glad you think so.” Clarke grumbles.

“I’ll get some drinks.” Bellamy offers.

When he comes back Clarke is sitting at the table, next to Monty and apologising to Nate.

“I didn’t mean to be such a bitch, just I’m a resident. I don’t get a lot of sleep.”

Nate nods sympathetically.

Bellamy hands her a beer and sits opposite her, she gives him a look sizing him up but he just smirks.

“So are you two the Blake siblings.” She asks, motioning between Nate and Bellamy.

“He’s one half. I’m just an employee.” Nate says.

“It’s your company?” Clarke asks Bellamy.

“Yeah, with my sister. She does the finance side of things. Although probably could do the heavy lifting.”

“Octavia could definitely do the heavy lifting. She’s stronger than you.” Nate snarks.

“Fuck you Miller.” Bellamy replies without heat.

“Miller?” Clarke asks.

“Nathan Miller.” Monty clarifies.

“Are you Nathan or Miller?” Clarke asks.

“Whichever. The Blakes call me Miller, Monty calls me Nate.” He replies evenly.

“Well for the last week I’ve been calling you scaffolding guy, so either would be an upgrade I guess.” Clarke laughs.

Bellamy snorts.

“I’ve been mentally calling you scaffolding asshole, so I wouldn’t be too smug.” She tells him.

She leaves out the hot part though. Bellamy must know he’s hot. And she’s not feeding his ego.

They all laugh and the conversation carries on. Clarke wants to join in, make a good impression but she’s honestly so tired it’s all beyond her.

When she realises she’s missed the last five minutes of conversation she gives in.

“I’m sorry guys, I am dead on my feet. I’ve gotta go and sleep. I’m back on nights from Sunday, so this is my 36 hours of sleep window.” She says standing up and stretching.

“Unless... please tell me you guys don’t work on Saturdays.” Clarke groans looking at Bellamy.

“We don’t.” He confirms.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Thank you for coming. I love you.” Monty tells her, wrapping her in a big hug.

“Of course.” Clarke smiles.

“You’re not driving are you?” Bellamy asks gruff.

“No. I’ll get a cab.”

“I’ve already ordered you one. It’s a prius, obviously, and should be outside in a minute. Text when you’re home.” Monty says.

“Will do. Nice to meet you Miller.” Clarke smiles, then grins at Bellamy. “Scaffolding asshole.”

“Princess, sorry, Dr Princess.” He grins in return.

Clarke throws a sleepy wave over her shoulder and heads out.

She sleeps the uninterrupted sleep of a resident and by the time she’s heading out for her Sunday night shift she’s feeling almost back to normal again. She sends Monty a quick text to arrange something with him and Miller when she’s off nights

Clarke is feeling less positive about the state of the world at 6am on Thursday when she’s just finished up a long night on an ER rotation.

“Monty? Why are you here? Are you ok?” Clarke gasps when she sees Monty in the hospital lobby.

“I’m fine. I’m here to take you home.”

“It’s 6am. What? Huh.” Is about all she can manage.

“Come on.”

“I have my car, I don’t need a ride.” She says, but follows him anyway.

“Just trust me.”

Clarke does trust Monty, so even though she’s incredibly confused she follows him to his car and gets in.

She’s not so confused that she doesn’t realise that they are driving in the opposite direction to her house.

“I thought you said you were taking me home. I live in the exact opposite direction.” She says.

“Yeah, I’m not taking you to your home. I’m taking you to sleep.”

“No offence Monty but this is getting creepier by the second.”

“Look, I know you’ve been arguing with Bellamy about the noise all week.” He starts.

It’s true, she has. But it’s like 80 per cent because of the noise and 20 per cent because he’s hot and fun to argue with, which is not something she feels like explaining right now.

“And they’re going to be full-on today, taking the rigging down so it will be even louder.”

“Ok, pretend I’m following this. You live in a co-op with Harper and four other people. That’s not quieter.”

“Which is why I’m not taking you there.”

“Is this a fever dream? Or a hallucination? Have I finally had so little sleep that I’ve cracked?” Clarke mutters.

Monty ignores her and keeps driving.

He eventually pulls up, about ten minutes away from the hospital at a cute, if a little run down, house.

“Are you about to murder me? Because honestly, I always thought it would be Jasper.” She says.

“This is Nate and Bellamy’s place, and the place where you will be getting at least six hours of uninterrupted sleep.” Monty says pulling into the driveway.

“Uhh, no, no way. I can’t just sleep at the house of people I don’t know. I’m not fucking goldilocks.” Clarke grouches.

“I know it’s strange–”

“Understatement.” Clarke interrupts.

“But they told me that today is going to be super loud at your place, like can’t sleep loud. So the options are here or my place, which as you pointed out is not an option.” Monty explains.

“Fine. Their couch better be comfy.” Clarke grumbles, following Monty out of the car and up the porch steps.

“Yeah, you’re not sleeping on the couch. Bellamy said you should take his room.” Monty says when they’re inside.

It’s enough of a shock that it distracts Clarke from snooping around the lounge, which is what she had been in the process of doing.

“I can’t sleep in Bellamy’s bed. I don’t know Bellamy!” Clarke exclaims.

“Well luckily, he doesn’t care. And won’t be there.” Monty says reasonably, “Besides it was his idea.”

That throws Clarke off the argument she was already forming.

“What do you mean his idea?”

“Precisely what I said. According to Nate Bellamy is one of those people who worries, so once he knew that you were a – a resident and b – getting very little sleep, he felt really guilty. So this was his idea.”

Clarke just gapes, which Monty takes as a sign to manoeuvre her upstairs.

“You know this is strange right? Like not just strange to me because I haven’t slept properly in like a year, but actually strange.”

“Yeah, I know. But it also makes sense, you need sleep, their place is empty because they’re making noise at your place… it works in a whole six-degrees of Kevin Bacon type-way.” Monty says as Clarke follows him up the stairs.

He pushes open a door and Clarke takes in the room. It’s a decent size with a closet, bookshelf – that is practically drooping under the weight of all the books – and a big double bed.

“He wanted me to tell you he changed the sheets but any snooping you do is on you.” Monty says pushing Clarke towards the bed.

“Noted.” She snorts.

Clarke actually groans when she sits down on the bed, with it’s cloud-like duvet.

“This is still weird.” She mutters, but she’s already falling back and closing her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” Monty says quietly.


	6. I Think She's Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next three fics (until chpt 9) are all set between s4 and s5 when we knew very little about the clusterfuck that was to come. As such they're all in canon and technically compliant but also very much not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so in this Bellamy and Raven are a couple (skip if this isn't your vibe). I half thought that this would be the Spacekru pairing and it would've made sense. Plus it would've given us a delicious throwback when they were all on the ground again, but alas and alack that is not the direction the show went in. 
> 
> I seem to remember I gave up on this one because I decided I didn't want Bellamy to cheat on Raven but wanted him with Clarke and didn't feel up to writing a triad.

Raven has a theory. It’s something that has been hovering at the edge of her thoughts since they arrived in what was once Polis, a week ago. But she couldn’t grab hold of it until Monty made a wistful comment about how much easier it would be to remove the rubble around the bunker if they still had a rover.

That was when her theory solidified – Clarke survived Primfaya.

Raven is 90 per cent convinced she’s right. The problem is she needs to talk to someone about this theory to work out the kinks and problems, really test it out.

Normally she’d go to Bellamy. He’s been her go-to for the last six years. Co-leaders, friends, lovers -all of it. But she can’t go to Bellamy about this. As much as she wants to, as much has she’d love to shake him awake right now and tell him that she can’t sleep because she’s almost certain Clarke’s alive. She can’t. They don’t talk about Clarke. That’s the one thing they don’t share.

So instead she just lies there in the tent that has been their home since they landed on earth two weeks ago. She curls in next to him when he puts his arm around her and pulls her close and decides that she won’t talk to him about this until she is 100% certain.

Because she can’t talk to Bellamy but needs to talk to someone she goes to Murphy.

It’s first light and Bellamy, Echo and Monty are taking another look at the rubble above the bunker. Harper is in her tent. Emori is scavenging. So she corners Murphy alone by the fire.

“I have a theory.” She says, not waiting for his response. “I think Clarke’s alive.”

“Think or know.” He asks.

“Think. But like ninety per cent, think.”

He nods as she explains her theory. About the fact that the Rover wasn’t where they expected it, about the fact that she thought she saw tire tracks when they first got to Polis but then it rained and she couldn’t be sure. It’s a lot of conjecture at this point but she tries to make him understand. She thinks he does.

When he speaks again it’s considered.

“And you’re coming to me because you can’t tell Blake?”

Raven nods. Murphy looks up at the sky before speaking again, taking the time to think.

It’s strange being on the ground again, for all of them. But Murphy changed in space and Raven knows he’s worried the ground will change him back. Back into the angry, abrasive, hurt boy he used to be. Her friendship with Murphy surprised her, she knew they’d interact - only seven people for six years gave them very little choice - but she didn’t think she’d come to trust him, to rely on him, the way she has. He’s insightful, can read people and get to the truth in a way that she hadn’t expected.

“Are you worried about telling him because you’re not sure it’s true, because you don’t think he can handle it or because you think it will change things?”

See, she thinks, insightful.

“All of them I guess. Bellamy and I aren’t like you and Emori, we’re not a certainty. Ours is more of a relationship of convenience.”

“Sure, that might be how it started but convenience or not, it’s still a relationship.”

“One that wouldn’t have happened if Clarke had come to space.” She argues back.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But we don’t know that.”

“We can guess. He would’ve gone to her, and not just for sex, for all of it.” She says.

And she’s not mad – it’s the truth. Things would’ve been different.

“You guys have been doing whatever it is you do for years now. That won’t entirely disappear.” Murphy says fairly.

She knows he is right, in a way. The last six years shifted things.

Besides, if Clarke is still alive and if they do find her then she will have to relearn them as much as they’ll have to relearn her. Six years is a long time.

“If she’s alive we have to find her” Raven says determinedly.

She means it too. She’s missed Clarke. She grieved for her, sure, but she also wondered what it would have been like if she was there. Imagined what Clarke would do in certain scenarios, what it would be like if Clarke got to relax, like they all have for once.

“Obviously.” He snarks, rolling his eyes. And for a moment he’s the boy on the ground again. But then he softens, “if you’re sure enough to think we should look for her then we need to tell the others.”

She nods, she knows what’s coming next: “But you need to talk to Bellamy first. You can’t spring this on him.”

“I know.”

She pauses then, “John? What if I’m wrong?”

“Then you’re wrong.” He shrugs, “but I know you. You wouldn’t have mentioned this to me if you thought you were wrong. If you’re ninety per cent certain, that’s good enough for me. A Reyes ninety is like a normal person one-fifty. As you constantly like to remind us, you’re brilliant.”

She laughs and nudges him with her shoulder, it’s how they hug.

“I am,” she laughs. Then she sobers, “but I could be wrong and it would bring everything up for nothing.”

“Whether you’re wrong or right we have to try and find her. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t. Plus, if you are right and Bellamy finds out that you thought you knew but didn’t say anything, didn’t suggest finding her… he’d never forgive you.”

There’s a pause, “to be honest, I don’t think any of us would.”

She knows he’s right. Clarke might not have been with them in space but she was always with them, they thought about her all the time and before that she was one of the original hundred. Clarke was always the one they orbited around. Well, her and Bellamy.

Raven goes back to her tent thinking about what Murphy said. He trusts her instincts, he’s willing to look for Clarke – that means a lot. But he was right when he said Bellamy needed to hear it from her.

Raven doesn’t think she’s selfish, no more than anyone else really, but there’s been a part of her – a bigger part than she acknowledges – that had liked being a team with Bellamy. She hasn’t been someone’s person since Finn, not really. And it’s not just the physical side, because she always knew she and Bellamy could do that, but it’s the support. The fact that he asks her questions and weighs up her answers. That he comes to her for guidance as much as she comes to him. It’s a role she’s become comfortable in, one she will miss when they find Clarke.

For a brief moment she pretends she didn’t tell Murphy, that she’d never had the stupid theory and things are as they were in space, just on the ground. The seven of them remain a little unit, all sure of their roles. But the thought flies out of her head as soon as it enters – the ground is already changing things. Bellamy is consumed with getting to his sister. They all want to see Miller, Kane and even Abby. Emori and Echo want to see if they still have people.

Plus it’s Clarke. She’d come after them in a heartbeat.

Raven is agonising over how to tell Bellamy all morning and in the end it’s not as bad as she expected, and kind of worse.

He comes into their tent just before lunch looking tired and anxious, it’s a look she thinks of as earth Bellamy, although with added space stubble.

“Hey,” he smiles at her, “Murphy said lunch will be in ten minutes and that it’s not algae but it’s not much better.”

Raven snorts a laugh because that does sound both true and like something Murphy would say.

“You ok?” she asks. He is searching for something in a distracted way on the makeshift table they set up in the corner.

“Yeah, just wondering if we have that hammer head that we found when we landed. Thinking I might be able to loosen some rubble that way.” He says, still searching.

“Fuck, it would be so much easier if Primfaya didn’t burn the fucking Rover.” He huffs, frustrated.

“I don’t think it did.” She says carefully.

“What do you mean?”

“I think the reason we couldn’t find it is not because it was destroyed but that someone is using it.”

“Everyone is in the bunker.” He says his tone easy, distracted, “And last I knew Grounders, if any of them survived, can’t drive.”

“But Clarke can.”

He pauses for a moment then turns to look at her, irritation dancing over his face.

“What the hell Raven? Clarke’s dead.”

“What if she’s not?”

“She is.”

“What if the nightblood solution worked?”

“It didn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

He stares at her like he’s debating something, but when he speaks its deliberate, careful.

“No, I don’t. But you don’t know anything either.”

“I don’t.” She concedes, “but I have a theory, a hunch. And if I’m right, which I usually am, it means Clarke survived.”

They’re staring at each other, Raven from her seat on the bed, Bellamy across the tent, arms folded, defensive.

“And if you’re wrong then it means that we all get our hopes up for nothing.”

He doesn’t add that their hearts would break again, but she knows that’s what he’s thinking. If she’s honest, she’s thinking it too.

“I think I’m right.” She says decisively standing up, “and if there is even a tiny chance I am, I won’t forgive myself if we don’t look for her.”

He comes towards her and looks at her closely.

“How long have you had this theory?”

“About a day. I talked it over with Murphy this morning -”

“You went to Murphy before me?” he seems hurt.

“Of course I did. It’s Clarke, Bellamy, you’re hardly an independent observer.” She scoffs.

“Are you serious, you didn’t come to me because of jealousy?” he says sardonically, derision dripping from every word.

“Fuck you. I didn’t come to you for about 12 hours because I wasn’t sure and I wanted to be as close to certain before I did tell you because of this…” she waves her arms between them.

He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Blake. You forget I know you. I’ve been with you pretty much every day for six years.”

“That goes both way Reyes.”

She knows they’re both really pissed off then. Then only use surnames when they’re properly annoyed.

“Yeah, well. In that case you should – one, know why I wanted to be certain before talking about Clarke and – two you should trust my fucking instincts. I got you to space and back.” She spits at him.

She wasn’t expecting him to be normal about Clarke. It’s Clarke after all. She was expecting him to be less of a dick in general.

He deflates then.

“You know I trust you.”

“Well show it.”

He looks so confused that she is almost over being annoyed with him, but not quite.

“Looking for Clarke, it needs to be a group decision. But I won’t go to them without you.” She says as softly as she can.

“Of course we look. If you think she’s out there we need to know.” He takes her hands and squeezes, “But we do this together.”

She nods and leans into him wrapping her arms around his waist and feeling his wrap around her.

“We all do this together.” He says.

She tells the rest of them her theory at lunch. And, honestly, convincing everyone else was easy, she knew it would be – it’s Clarke.

They agree to search the next day. One more afternoon of trying to get into the bunker is not a bad use of time and it’s not like Clarke is going anywhere. If she is alive, she survived Primfaya, she’ll last one more afternoon.

She knows the rest of them agree they need to look but she doesn’t miss the way their eyes dart between her and Bellamy all afternoon. Doesn’t miss that she often catches them in little huddles. She knows that they don’t miss that her and Bellamy might be civil but pointedly choose jobs on opposite sides of the rubble.

That’s the problem with being with the same handful of people for seven years. There are no secrets, no surprises.


	7. Let's Love Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came from listening to One Republic's Let's Hurt Tonight, specifically the lines:  
>  _when I was off, which happened a lot  
>  You came to me and said, "that's enough"  
> Oh I know that this love is pain  
> But we can't cut it from out these veins, no  
> So I'll hit the lights and you lock the doors  
> We ain't leaving this room 'til we bust the mold  
> Don't walk away, don't roll your eyes  
> They say love is pain, well darling, let's hurt tonight_
> 
> Basically at the end Raven was going to lock Bellamy and Clarke into a room to sort their shit out.

Space was meant to be easier. They knew space. But right now, with the world burning below them, it didn’t feel easier. It felt foreign. They might have only been on the ground for a year, but she’d become used to it. Used to the sounds, the smells, the food, the people. There were people here of course. Some of her favourites if she was being honest, but it wasn’t the same.

“We have a house speciality of algae three ways.” Murphy said with a wry smile. Putting the dishes down in the middle of the table.

“Oh yeah, what are the three ways?” Harper asked with a light lilt.

Raven had noticed she did that often, asked questions, made people feel included and tried to keep the peace.

“Raw, kinda cooked, and burnt.” Murphy pointed to the three bowls in front of them. “It was Emori’s turn in the kitchen.” He added with a shrug and a steely look daring any of them to say anything about her.

None of them did. Space was tough. Not least for grounders.

“In that case I will go for a combination of three.” Raven said, helping herself to a bit from each bowl. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Reyes, if you die in space from bad algae, after everything we’ve been through, I will personally save your life to kill you again.” Bellamy quipped as he joined them at the table.

Raven assumed he was kidding, but with Bellamy you could never be sure. She rolled her eyes at him in response and was rewarded with a smile.

“Where’s Clarke?” Monty asked, helping himself to algae three ways.

“Hell if I know.” Belllamy shrugged.

Raven shared a look with Harper but said nothing.

“Last I saw her she was in the radio room.” Echo added. “I was lost on my way to farm station.”

“For god’s sake…” Monty stormed off.

“I’ll go.” Harper added unnecessarily, as she got up to follow Monty.

The rest of them continued eating in silence, only broken when Emori came out to check she hadn’t in fact poisoned the only survivors not currently on earth.

These days it always came down to Clarke. Raven had assumed, they all had, that once they got to space Clarke and Bellamy would sort out whatever it was they had between them and give in to their obvious chemistry. But it had been 63 days and nothing. They were still friendly, still spoke to each other – it was hard not to on a ship of seven people – but they hadn’t hooked up as far as Raven knew. And she knew most things. She was certain they hadn’t even kissed based on her discussions with the others. Murphy wanted to have a betting pool on when they would finally give in but Raven had refused, nothing to gamble anyway. Plus, she didn’t think it was right. Before they left earth Clarke and Bellamy had seemed kismit, fate, but up here they were brittle with each other. Not angry and feisty like the beginning of last year, but tired, weary. Raven hated it. It’s not like she wanted them to be going at it like space rabbits, although she had to admit she was jealous of Murphy and Emori and Harper and Monty who had the option. Five years was a long time with only a hand and a vivid imagination. But she wanted them to be them. Whatever that was.

“…ridiculous!” Clarke said stomping into the room, followed by an animated Monty, and Harper.

Raven looked up. She wasn’t planning on getting involved, but with only seven people it was hard to ignore.

“It’s not ridiculous Clarke, it’s tech. My tech. Raven’s tech. Not yours. I know you want to speak to earth, we all do, but it’s not your job.”

“I thought we were all in this together, I thought it was a democracy.” Clarke snapped back, with a heavy emphasis on the final word.

Raven looked at Bellamy who, aside from folding down the page of the book he was reading, said nothing.

There was silence in the room – other then the constant whirring of the oxygenators – while everyone waited to see what would happen. In the past Bellamy would have snapped back, but here the fight seemed to have gone out of him. Out of all of them really.

“Yeah, democracy as in everyone decides. Not democracy as in everyone does whatever the hell they want.” Bellamy said evenly. “We tried that once, remember.”

Clarke huffed in response and went back to her food. “What even is this?” she asked plonking the spoon back into the bowl with a thud.

“Algae.” Emori said.

“Three ways” Harper, Murphy and Echo added.

Raven let out a snort of a laugh, as did Monty, Bellamy smirked and the tension was broken. Clarke rolled her eyes but didn’t smile, she didn’t complain either so Raven was taking it as a win.

“Right, five card draw aces are high.” Raven said shuffling cards, “who’s in?”

Emori and Echo groaned but joined Raven on the floor where she was sitting with the cards.

“Hey, it’s for your benefit.” Murphy said softly nudging Emori as he joined them.

They had started playing poker some time around day 40, when Raven had refused to join in the Griffin/Blake betting pool, which led to a discussion about gambling, which led to a horrified Murphy realising the love of his life had no idea how to play poker. Neither of the grounders did, having never had the need and their own games to keep them busy.

So they all started playing after dinner for metal scraps. There wasn’t much else to do. Now it was only seven of them with the only threat being the elements – and an ancient space ring – they had a lot more free time. Something none of them were used to. Raven wasn’t sure they’d ever get used to not being constantly under threat.

“On clean up. I’ll join later.” Harper said, grabbing the bowls and leaving the room. Monty joined her. It wasn’t his turn to help Raven knew but he was still sensitive about his hands, plus probably wanted to vent about Clarke.

“Blake?” Raven asked raising a brow at Bellamy.

“Sure. What else is there to do?” He said, scooting down next to Echo.

“Clarke?” Raven asked.

“No I’m all good here.” Clarke answered pointing to her bowl.

Raven saw Bellamy’s eyes linger on Clarke as she went back to poking at her food, but she said nothing.

After multiple rounds of poker – Murphy winning most of them – they decided to call it a night, all wandering back to their bunks. It was this time of night Raven hated the most. When she was asleep she didn’t know she was alone, and in the day she was busy, but right before she fell asleep she knew. That’s when she missed earth, and everyone they’d lost along the way, the most.

As she walked down the familiar halls she spotted Clarke at the main window. They called it Jaha’s window because when they’d arrived up here they’d found a bottle of alcohol that had belonged to the former chancellor.

Raven made her way towards Clarke quietly. Up here she looked softer, she thought. More like the Clarke who went down to earth all soft blonde hair and regulation ark clothing. The grounder princess was nowhere to been seen. Until Clarke turned and for a brief moment stared with such unconcealed rage that Raven could practically feel her turning into Wanheda.

“Hey” Raven said softly, coming to stand next to Clarke and watch the world burn.

“Hey”

“You finished being mad at Monty yet?”

“I’m not mad at him.”

Raven tutted, as Clarke amended. “Not really. I’m mad at everything, everyone. I just thought it would be… I don’t know, easier somehow.”

“Yeah, space sucks. But not as much as dying in a firestorm in Alie’s bunker would have done.” Raven shrugs.

“I wasn’t trying to break stuff.” Clarke says quietly, “I just wanna talk to my mum.”

“God Clarke, you think I don’t want to talk to earth. That Bellamy doesn’t want to speak to Octavia, that we all don’t miss people. But we’re trying. We’re dealing with old tech, an engineer whose hands are slowly healing and we’re not even sure the comms in the bunker are working. Did it even occur to you that maybe we aren’t the problem.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do up here.” Clarke says quietly after a minute. “I’ve spent so long being in charge and fighting and now there’s nothing to fight, I’m tired.”

Raven pulls Clarke in for a hug. A real one, the type they haven’t had in months.

“Plus Bellamy’s mad at me.” Clarke whispers.

“What?” Raven pulls back to look at Clarke. “Why on earth would you think that? I’ve seen Blake mad so have you, hell it’s normally because of you, and he’s not mad now.”

“I told him to be the head and heart and…” Clarke shrugs again not finding the words to finish her sentence, instead resting her head on Raven’s shoulder.

“Look. I don’t get in between you two because frankly there was enough going on that I never had to. And now there’s nothing happening I was hoping to ignore your dramas, but here’s some free advice from someone who literally tried to go to another world to forget her pain and problems. It doesn’t work. What works is talking. Or fighting.”

“Or screwing.” Raven adds with a smile as an afterthought

Clarke laughs a proper laugh and Raven considers it a win.

“Come on, bed.” She says looping her arm around Clarke and turning away from the window. “Tomorrow is another day, and we’ll only know what we’ve have for breakfast if we go to sleep.”

“Something tells me it might be algae.” Clarke offers sarcastically.

“You might be right about that Griffin. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Raven is lying in her bed when she comes up with the solution. It’s not elegant, and she’s certain they’ll hate it, but it might be worth it. She falls asleep easily after that.


	8. Seven Devils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these fics are ever going to be finished but I wish I had stuck at this one because I think it could've been a good'un. The premise is that Clarke hallucinates people she love(d)s until she thinks she can't go on, but the final person she "sees" is Bellamy who "leads" her to Madi, which gives her the strength to carry on.
> 
> Title and idea came from [Seven Devils](https://youtu.be/SM8PU-mTSaI) by Florence + The Machine

Seven Devils

Wells - patience

Finn - forgiveness

Lexa - understanding/love

Jasper - acceptance

Abby - fear

Raven - knowledge

Bellamy - hope/love

**i. Wells**

It’s been over a year. Or as she has started thinking of it 439 days since Primfaya.

Clarke is no stranger to visions but that was through grief. This, this, is something else.

She’d been walking for days, searching for wood to bring back to the cave she’s found. The cave is nothing special but it is a good midway point between Polis and Alie’s bunker, and everything looks slightly less dead here. Which is like saying that having visions means she’s slightly less alone, it’s true, but it doesn’t make it any better.

“Are you really going to pile the wood like that?”

The voice startles her. How had she forgotten what he sounded like.

“Wells.” She whispers.

“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”

Clarke focuses on the wood, continuing to pile it up next to the wall.

“It won’t dry out like that.” Wells says from next to her. Except, it’s not Wells because, Wells died. He’s been dead for years now.

Clarke shakes her head, hoping the voice will disappear. Hoping the shadow next to hers is just a trick of the light.

“You can’t put it so close together and next to a damp wall. It will just cause mould”

Clarke can’t help herself, she looks up then and there he is. He looks just the same, wearing his standard issue Ark clothes.

“What do you know about mould?”

“I read about it in earth skills. And then when we first came down here I remember thinking we’d need to make cabins to live in.”

“Yeah, we never quite got round to that.” She says bitterly.

“I know.” He says calmly, in that peaceful Wells way, “but you will now.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Clarke has learnt not to make plans on Earth. It’s a futile undertaking. Instead she just starts taking the wood stack down.

“You’re getting a do-over.” Wells says, moving to the side, “the whole earth is.”

“It already had a do-over,” Clarke scoffs, “another one seems like overkill. Literally.”

“Besides,” she says slamming the wood down, “I didn’t want a do-over, what good is a fucking do over if I’m the only one here.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not real, Wells. You died. I buried you.”

“I’m here now though, aren’t I?”

“Yeah because I’ve finally gone fucking crazy.” She mutters.

“Maybe, but you’re no longer alone.” He jokes.

She’d forgotten that too. That he could be funny, not laugh out loud funny, but little asides that always made her smile.

“I wish you’d lived longer.” She says, because if she’s talking to dead Wells and she has gone crazy she might as well be honest, “I don’t know what you’d have thought of Earth but I wonder if I might have made different decisions with you here.”

“Maybe, but you were always stubborn. I might not of made a difference.” He says sitting down leaning against the back wall of the cave, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

“It would have made a difference, I know it would.” She says with conviction.

If Wells hadn’t died there would have been a cooler head around. The problem with her and Bellamy is that they’re too hot-headed always charging ahead. Wells would have been more considered. She tells him as much.

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t seem like there was much time to weigh up options.”

Clarke huffs, she knows he would have made a difference and she doesn’t want to hear otherwise.

“Besides, we’d have still ended up here.” He says.

Clarke pauses in her wood piling to turn and look at him, “I don’t mean in the cave, I mean the end of the world.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“There’s no guessing Clarke. Even you can’t stop nuclear reactors from melting.”

“Raven might have.” Clarke says petulantly, because that’s what she’s been thinking recently. Maybe they were wrong to hide, maybe they should have tried to stop it not hide from it.

“Clarke, the combined brain power of Sinclair, Raven and every other engineer, chemist and physicist on the Ark wouldn’t have been able to stop it.” He says in that slightly patronising tone she’d also forgotten.

“I’m really glad I went crazy and started having visions of you. It’s so comforting.” She says sarcastically.

“Who says you’re crazy. Or that I’m hear to comfort you.”

“Well then why are you here?” She snaps.

“Maybe I’m a ghost.” He ventures.

“You don’t believe in ghosts, or didn’t.”

“Yeah, but then I died. The eternal afterlife seems more appealing once you’re in it.” He smiles.

“Well I don’t believe in ghosts.” She snaps.

“In that case, you probably have gone crazy.” He laughs.

She rolls her eyes, but continues to un-pile the wood. She glances over and he’s still there, so maybe she really is crazy but if she is, she’s going to lean into it – she hasn’t had a conversation with another person in 18 months.

“I’m already talking to myself on the radio, so I guess it’s not that different from talking to myself out loud a cave.” She mutters.

“I’ve already told you, you’re not talking to yourself, you’re talking to me.” Wells says easily.

“I’m not arguing this point with you again.” She huffs.

“So don’t. What’s your plan for the wood?”

“Who says I have a plan?”

“You’re Clarke Griffin, you always have a plan.” He laughs.

“Not good ones.”

“Clarke, space was a good plan.”

“You don’t know that. They’re probably already dead.”

Wells doesn’t say anything to that, which is fair – what is there to say?

“Hypothetically speaking, say I did want to use this wood for something what would be the best way to stack it so it dries fully?” Clarke says after a while.

All the wood she’s collected is on the floor around her feet.

“You know the answer to this Clarke, you were Pike’s best student.”

“Not sure that’s a glowing recommendation.” She scowls. Her memories of Pike are still tinged with bloodshed and pain.

“You want to make sure the earth you’re stacking it on is as clean and dry as possible…”

She snorts, “We’re in a cave.”

“Well pick the best bit.”

Clarke walks around until she finds a part of the cave that’s set back a little, the ground only has a few weeds, which she can pull up, and it’s mostly sheltered.

“Ok. Now what?”

“Now you stack it, but loosely, so that the air can get in around it.”

Clarke starts to restack the wood, putting it in piles and then layering it one on top of the other. Wells makes comments, and little remarks, but he doesn’t help – she’s not sure he even could. She doesn’t know what abilities ghost-like Wells has. She’s still not entirely convinced she’s not crazy.

When Clarke is finished she takes a step back to survey her handiwork.

“Now what?” She asks Wells, who is standing next to her.

“Now we wait.”

“That’s it?” She says turning to Wells, “I just wait.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll need more wood though.”

“Then you’ll get some, you know how to stack it now. But remember the new stuff will take longer to dry out.”

“How are you not boring yourself with this?” She laughs.

“It’s like chess Griffin, you’ve got to play a few moves ahead. It doesn’t seem like much now, but it’s a foundation.”

They try and play chess, but with no pieces it’s impossible. Wells suggests she whittles some but it’s such a ridiculous idea that Clarke can’t even bring herself to humour him. Instead they play tic-tac-toe in the dirt for a bit before Clarke falls asleep. She sleeps more now than she ever did before, there’s not much else for her to do.

When she wakes, he’s gone.

**ii. Finn**

Clarke is hunting when she hears a noise in the tree above her. She looks up, “you always were heavy footed princess.”

She doesn’t expect to see dark curls and dark eyes, not really. Bellamy was never one for trees and he’s not dead, she thinks. Hopes.

It’s Finn, of course. But, it’s still strange, the nickname doesn’t belong to him anymore, hasn’t for a long time. Not that he knows that. He’s dead.

“You’re dead.” She tells him.

“Nice to see you too.” He grins jumping down from a branch and landing effortlessly in front of her.

“You’re not real. You’re dead, like Wells.”

“Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I’m not real. I existed Clarke.”

“Yeah and you died and the world got irradiated so whatever did exist is gone.” She snaps because she’s really not in the mood.

“You still exist.” He says with that easy smile he had.

She’d forgotten that. Forgotten how light and earnest he was at the beginning.

“These days, I’m not so sure.” She grumbles.

“Oh come on, princess. You look hungry, you need my help.” He smiles walking in step with her.

“Fine. But don’t call me that.”

“Princess?”

“Yeah.”

“If the crown fits.” He grins.

“I mean it Finn, knock it off” Clarke says whirling on him in anger.

“Fine,” he says holding up his hands and pouting slightly. She’d forgotten that too, the way he could sulk.

“What are we looking for?” he asks falling in to step with her. His tread is barely discernable but he is always was light-footed, and well, he’s dead.

“Food.” Clarke grumbles.

“Not exactly an array of options. Bet you never thought you’d miss the berries we found at the beginning.” He grins.

She’d been wondering if anyone else would show up after Wells yesterday, but she hadn’t expected Finn. He hasn’t haunted her for a long time.

“Berries would work. Animals would be better, but honestly I haven’t seen many of them. Just a few insects.” She huffs kicking at some dead leaves.

“You’ll find something, you always do.”

“What would you know about it, you’re aren’t real.”

“I’m here aren’t I?” He smiles.

“Yeah because I drank some irradiated water, or am slowly loosing my mind. Not because you’re real. You’re dead Finn, I killed you.”

“Technically, yeah, you did. But we both know it wasn’t as simple as that.” He shrugs.

“Shh! You’ll scare off any dinner.” Clarke snaps.

She doesn’t actually think they’ll find anything to hunt, it’s been 440 days since Primfaya and she has yet to see another living thing. She’s sure some survived because she couldn’t be the only thing alive on the planet but they’re doing a good job of hiding. Maybe they’re all underground, like the people in the bunker.

“There’s nothing here. Anything with any sense is already dead or gone.”

“A bit further,” Finn grins, spinning to face her easily, “what else have you got planned today.”

“Funny.” She deadpans, but she follows because he’s right what else is she going to do.

“You did the right thing you know.” Finn says casually.

“Which time?” Clarke grumbles, because honestly at this point she’s done the right thing so many times she doesn’t know what it looks like any more.

“Me. Letting me go. It was the right choice.”

“It was the only choice-” she starts before stopping suddenly. She’s not having that conversation again.

“It wasn’t. You could have let the grounders have their blood.”

“They got it in one way or another. If that’s one thing the earth has been good for it’s seeping up blood.”

Finn stares at her, surprised she thinks. It’s an expression she doesn’t remember on him.

“What,” Clarke shrugs, “It’s true. I can’t count how many people are dead or gone because of me.”

“That’s what leaders do.” He tells her.

“Some leader I am. Look at me with my army of one.” Clarke pouts.

She hates feeling this way, self-pitying but she’s tired and Finn is here reminding her of all the bad decisions she’s ever made.

With Wells it was different. She knows it would’ve been better if he’d lived. With Finn, she thinks of his death as the moment it all turned. The moment every fight became one they eventually lost, even when they thought they’d won.

“Hey look, sea thistle.” Finn says suddenly, crouching down to look behind a clump of rocks.

She would have missed it herself, it’s hardly even a plant but Finn’s right, it’s sea thistle and when boiled with it makes a passable soup. It’s one of the last things she ever ate with him before it all went wrong.

“I’m sorry I killed you.” She mutters.

“I’m sorry I left you no choice, but Clarke I don’t blame you. Never did.” He smiles at her kindly.

Clarke bends down with her knife and starts getting the thistle out, careful not to damage the root.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think they will either.”

“Huh?”

“The others, in space and in the bunker. No one will blame you for not being with them.”

“We could’ve all been safe in the bunker.” She counters. This is one of the favourite scenarios she tortures herself with.

“Not with Raven. You’d have never got to her in time. Would you really have left her out to die?”

“Of course not.” She spits, “We could have made it in time.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” she admits.

“Clarke, you didn’t fail anyone. Not me or anyone that came after.”

“I never said I did.” She huffs, standing back up and placing the knife and sea thistle in her leather pouch.

“Well, in case that’s what you were thinking.” Finn says lightly.

Clarke glowers at him because it’s easier than admitting that is what she’s been thinking a lot recently.

She’d forgotten that before Finn was someone else’s boyfriend, before he snapped, they’d been on the same wavelength, he could read her – not the way Bellamy could of course – but for a moment when they’d first landed on earth and peace had seemed possible Finn was the ally to have.

Then she killed him and the world got bloodier and bloodier.

“Sea thistle and dock weed. Not bad for a days work.” Finn grins at her.

“I don’t have any dock weed.”

“Only because you weren’t looking. You always see the harsher thing, forgetting that the softness is often right there too. Look behind the thistle princess.”

She does, and sure enough he’s right. There’s the dock weed that can be used to treat burns and rashes but also eaten if cooked properly.

Clarke bends to cut it and then stands up, prepared for Finn’s smug I told you so. But he’s not there. He’s gone and she’s alone again.

**iii. Lexa**

"Hello Clarke."

Clarke doesn't drop her rifle, but its close. Her hand stills, the knife she was using to carve into the strap pauses mid letter.

She knows that voice, she's dreamt about that voice, she loved that voice.

The light from the fire is flickering and she keeps staring at it, not looking up. 

"You're not even going to say hello?" The voice is teasing now, the light lilt that was so rarely heard, "the Clarke I know wasn't a coward."

"The Clarke you know isn't here. You're not here." She grits looking up.

Clarke had prepared herself, she knew she was going to see her but the reality, seeing Lexa with her long hair flowing around her, framing her face. Her eyes glinting in the firelight is almost too much.

"I clearly am here." Lexa replies in that aggravatingly patient way Clarke had forgotten about.

"You know what I mean. You're dead, you know you are. And I'm going crazy." she mutters the last part under her breath.

"You know commanders never really die." 

"I am not in the mood for that nightblood rubbish today."

"Rubbish that kept you alive, you mean."

"Kept me alone." She snaps.

"You're not alone Clarke. I told you I'd always be with you." 

“Yes, you did.” Clarke grumbles, “Which was the last time I had a vision of you when you were already dead.”

“”It helps no one to dwell on the past, you know that.” Lexa says softly.

“I have no choice, the past is all I have.” Clarke sighs.

She goes back to the rifle strap, carefully carving the letters.

“What is this?” Lexa asks sitting next to her.

Clarke looks over at her properly then. She’s in her commander clothes, but the softer ones, the delicate leather, the deep reds woven in between the black. Her eyes are lined with kohl but not the war paint Clarke remembers bitterly.

“It’s a rifle.” Clarke snaps.

Lexa doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead she raises one brow in question and waits.

“It’s a memorial, I guess.” She starts, pausing in her carving to set the knife down gently.

“A memorial or a millstone?”

“Does it make a difference?” Clarke spits.

“Of course. The choices we make, the things that happen, we can’t control them.” Lexa tells her.

“I know that. But my people, my responsibility.”

“I’m not your people Clarke, you are not responsible for what happened to me.” Lexa says gently, reaching out to run her fingers over her own name on the rifle strap.

“Aren’t I?” Clarke sighs, “If I wasn’t there, you wouldn’t be dead. It’s always because of me.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit.” Lexa smiles, “I was the commander, I was always fated to live a short life. You made it a complicated one certainly, but also one where I was truly loved. That’s the only part of what happened that you must bear.”

“What happened to love is weakness?” Clarke snarks.

“No one in their right mind would ever accuse you of being weak Clarke kom Skaikru.”

“Earth is really beginning to piss me off.”


	9. Finding Balance II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're onto what should've been longer fics now. But first an unfinished sequel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel of sorts to my fic [Finding Balance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14230857), read that first of this won't make sense. And to those of you who ask if I would continue that fic, this is as far as I've ever got – sorry.

Everyone except Clarke is in the theatre. It’s become their meeting place over the past three days and it’s normal to see a few of them in the cavernous room either sparring, plotting or just hanging out.

“Well?” Bellamy demands looking at Raven, “What’s this about?”

“Hold your horses Blake, Clarke’s not here yet.” Raven replies.

Bellamy rolls his eyes but turns back to Miller to carry on their conversation. 

“Not that I don’t love just hanging out setting shit on fire,” Octavia starts, rolling flames between her fingers to make a point, “are we having a meeting or not.”

“Not without Clarke.” Raven replies.

“Look, if the princess can’t make it on time that’s not our problem. Fill her in later.” Bellamy huffs, facing Raven with his arms crossed.

“Who died and made you king?” Roan drawls, “She said we’re waiting for Clarke, so we’re waiting for Clarke.”

“Clarke who can’t even be bothered to be here.” Octavia points out.

“Exactly,” Bellamy nods, “we all dragged our asses here on time, just because she doesn’t care isn’t my problem.”

“That’s the thing though,” Wells speaks up, “She does care about this. Plus, Clarke is never late.”

“That’s true. She’s irritatingly punctual actually.” Roan agrees.

“Yeah, this really isn’t like her to not show up.” Monty says coming into the conversation.

“She’s fifteen minutes late,” Raven says, “at what point do we start to worry?” 

Bellamy looks between them all then and his expression changes imperceptibly from irritation to concern.

“If she’s never late,” he begins.

“She’s not.” Wells interrupts firmly.

“Then I say the time to worry is now. What we’re doing is dangerous.” Bellamy finishes.

“And we know The Sect have eyes and ears everywhere. Clarke is a high profile target even if no one has guessed what we’re up to.” Miller adds.

“We can’t all go charging in though. Bell and I aren’t even meant to know Clarke!” Octavia says frustrated.

“I can go to her place, it’s not strange for me to be there.” Wells offers.

“You shouldn’t go alone, we don’t know what’s happening.” Monty says protectively.

“I can go with him. Of everyone else here I’m the only other one that Clarke is commonly seen with.” Roan suggests.

“Yeah that makes sense.” Raven agrees.

“I’d feel better if you went too. We should have one person we know.” Bellamy says quietly to Raven.

“So much for working as a team.” Roan snarks, having overheard everything.

Suddenly they’re all talking at once, over each other, three days of petty irritations and concerns coming up to the front.

They’re so busy with sniping at each other that no one notices Clarke come into the room.

“Hey? What’s going on?” She asks, a few steps away from the front of the stage where everyone is gathered.

“Clarke!” Wells exclaims, “Are you ok?”

She smiles but before she gets chance to say anything, Bellamy turns towards her arms folded.

“Nice of you to join us princess,” Bellamy snaps, “so glad you could make it.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Sorry, I’ve had a bit of a morning.”

“What’s going on?” Monty asks, “you’re late, you’re never late.”

“Councilman Kane was at my house.” Clarke tells them all, hoisting herself onto the edge of the stage.

“What? Why?” Octavia asks.

“That’s what I hung around to find out.” Clarke says, “he was there to speak to my mom. She thought I was already out so they didn’t exactly keep their voices low.”

“And?” Roan asks, leaning on the front row of seats.

“To cut a long story short, he wants my mom to come back to the Council.”

“That’s not exactly a surprise.” Miller offers. When everyone turns to look at him he adds, “well, it’s not. Clarke’s mom was a key member of the council and, if she doesn’t go back, they have no water as well as no fire.”

“Miller’s right. From a strength perspective, it makes sense.” Raven agrees.

“There’s more to it though, right?” Bellamy says starring at Clarke, “It’s not news that they want your mom back on the Council, that wouldn’t have made you this late.”

“You’re right. It’s not just that.” Clarke says looking at Bellamy, before turning to Wells and Roan.

“Did you know there was an agreed mourning period?” She asks them, “Past the initial six months?”

“No, since when?” Wells asks as Roan shakes his head.

“That’s what Marcus came to talk to my mom about. Apparently The Sect agreed to an additional six months on top of the traditional mourning because it was so unprecedented.”

“And now the initial six months is up?” Monty guesses.

“Nearly, it is up at the end of next week, so in about ten days but Lexa has apparently requested a meeting before that.”

“Wait, The Sect granted an extra six months of mourning. Why?” Raven asks.

“I don’t know. I mean nothing like that had ever happened to the Council before, maybe they were being kind.” Wells offers.

Clarke, Bellamy, Roan and Octavia all scoff in unison. 

“Or not.” Wells concedes.

“It’s unlikely they were just being kind,” Raven says, weighing her words carefully, “But we don’t really know, what happened to the Council was unprecedented.”

Clarke heaves a heavy sigh, she hates talking about this and has managed to avoid but it’s not like the story isn’t out there. Her dad lost control of his powers and her mom wasn’t able to stop him. In fact, she made it worse and more than half the Magic Council died.

“Guys, we can just talk about it,” Clarke shrugs, “Because of my parents, the Council was destroyed and people died. Including Roan’s mom.”

“Hey, you know my view on it. We’re dealing with dangerous magic, these things happen.” Roan tells her sincerely. 

It’s not news to Clarke, they’ve discussed it more than once over the past year.

“Plus my mom was kind of a bitch.”

“She’s still your mom though,” Monty argues, surprised.

“Yeah she was. And she was incredibly powerful, if she couldn’t withstand what happened then she clearly wasn’t meant to.” Roan says calmly.

“What I don’t understand, what I’ve never understood, is why The Sect didn’t strike then. After the initial six months.” Raven posits.

“To get them onside?” Miller suggests.

“It would make sense, although it seems pretty rational for them.” Clarke counters.

“What if they weren’t strong enough to make a play for the Council at the time?” Octavia suggests. At the inquisitive looks from the rest of the group she adds defensively, “Raven isn’t the only one who hears things.” 

“So they offered an additional six months mourning as a show of kindness but was actually just so they could strengthen their ranks?” Wells sums up.

“It would make sense, strategically.” Bellamy sighs, “And now they’re strong enough, the Night Commander wants a meeting.”

“It’s kind of genius.” Roan mutters, annoyed.

“How do you figure that?” Octavia asks.

“Because, either way Lexa and by default The Sect wins,” Clarke sighs, “If the Council make the alliance then The Sect have half the council. If they don’t Lexa can say, “oh well I tried,” and declare war anyway.” 

Clarke looks at them all thinking it through, she has to admit it’s a clever power play and one she didn’t see coming.

“And you think this is likely?” Monty asks her.

“Yes, it’s how she operates. It’s why she’s the youngest Night Commander in a century, she’s always thinking three moves ahead.” Clarke muses.

They’re all quiet, thinking about the implications of what they’ve just discussed. It brings a weight to the room, a reality that hadn’t been part of their earlier training sessions.

Clarke is the first one to break the silence, “Raven, sorry, I totally hijacked your meeting. What did you want to speak to us about?”

“This actually,” Raven says, distractedly, “well, the Council.” 

She’s not really paying any attention to Clarke as she replies, instead is pacing back and forth, which everyone knows is how she thinks.

“What she meant, I think,” Roan begins picking up the thread, “Is we need to work out how we convince the Council that we are a good alternative.”

“Yes, that’s something I’ve been thinking about. They’re not going to want to give up power.” Wells sighs.

“They have no Fire, so no choice there.” Octavia smirks.

“Some how I don’t think my dad is going to like the idea of sharing a Council with you two.” Wells laughs.

“Luckily, we don’t want to share.” Octavia grins back at him.

“That is a problem though. We don’t want them to give up the open Council seats, we want to take all of them.” Monty observes.

“I think I have an idea.” Raven says suddenly, “We need an inside man. Someone who will help us.”

“Don’t look at me,” Wells says holding his hands up, “there’s no way my dad will give up power.”

Raven turns to Clarke and everyone else follows her lead.

“A worse idea than going to Jaha. My mom thinks the Council is the reason my dad is dead, she won’t want me anywhere near it.”

“Then we don’t let her know you will be near it.” Bellamy says firmly to Clarke before turning back to the others, arms folded.

“Wells, you said that Marcus Kane was giving you Air lessons on the side.” Bellamy says.

“Yeah, but he’s pretty happy with power too.” Wells counters.

“That’s fine. We don’t need him to be happy about it, we need him to let us know how you would go about the theory of setting up a new Council.” Bellamy starts, “Then in the meantime Roan goes to Clarke’s mom and discusses potential Water replacements. She knows and likes you, right?”

Roan nods.

“And you’re a child of a former Council member, so it won’t be strange you taking an interest in this.”

“Could work. It’s worth a shot at least.” Roan shrugs.

“Miller, is your dad still one of Indra’s guards?” Bellamy asks.

“Yeah but you know he won’t tell me anything.” Miller replies.

“He will if you finally give into his requests to think about becoming a cadet.” Bellamy grins.

“I hate you.” Miller huffs, but nods in understanding.

“You want to divide and conquer.” Raven says.

“Like chess?” Wells adds.

“Yep. It was Clarke that gave me the idea.” Bellamy grins.

“I did?” Clarke gapes.

“You said that Lexa is always three moves ahead, which means we need to be too.” 

“But none of this actually gets the Council on side.” Monty points out.

“We don’t need them on side. We need to know what they know because when they take the meeting with Lexa their option will be an alliance or a full strength Council.” Clarke says, “which we know they don’t have.”

“But we’ll be there, waiting in the wings.” Bellamy finishes.

“Assuming the remaining Council members go for it, and at this stage that is still quite the assumption, The Sect will still see it as an act of aggression.” Raven counters.  
“As is trying to take over our Council.” Clarke shrugs.

“Exactly, we need to fight fire with fire.” Bellamy says.

“You would say that.” Clarke grumbles as everyone laughs.

“I think he’s right.” Roan says eventually 

At Clarke’s sceptical look he adds, “I know, I’m as surprised as everyone else but it’s a good plan, not to mention the only plan and if they’re meeting Lexa at the end of the week we’re kind of on a time crunch.”

“All those in favour?” Raven asks.

“I thought we weren’t voting on things.” Monty says airily but he’s already putting his hand up in the air.

All hands except Bellamy’s go up, “what I’m not voting on my own plan. It’s my plan, of course I think it’s good.”

“Unanimous then. So I guess everyone get to it and we’ll meet tomorrow as usual.” Raven says finally.

It takes Bellamy a minute to notice her. He’s not looking for her, he’s looking for the jacket he left behind this morning and so he doesn’t think much of the space being cold - he’s not wearing a jacket, of course it’s cold. It’s only as he moves closer into the room that he realises, it’s not just cold, it’s freezing. The further into the cavernous space he gets, closer to the stage, the more the temperature drops. He keeps himself warm, perks of being a fire sign and is so busy looking around to see what’s going on that he almost misses the cause. 

Clarke. Lying on the floor, eyes closed, creating snow flurries around her.

“Everything ok, princess?” He deadpans, as he gets closer.

“Oh, Bellamy, hey. Thought someone was in here, it felt warmer.” She replies absently, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Wanna tell me why you’re on the floor recreating the arctic?”

“I prefer the cold when I think.” She shrugs, sitting up fully.

“And the floor?”

“Sometimes you’ve just got to succumb to the floor.” She shrugs, before smiling up at him and patting the space next to her.

Bellamy rolls his eyes but sits down next to her. He scoots back so he can lean his back against the auditorium chairs and stretches his legs in front of him.

“You haven’t been here all day have you?” He asks.

“No. I went with Roan so he could see my mom and then excused myself so they could talk. As discussed.”

“And came here?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

It’s quiet. The room echoes when all of them are in there but right now, it’s peaceful, like a church. Bellamy is the first to break the silence.

“So come on, what are you thinking that requires succumbing to the floor?”

She sighs, a deep sounds that Bellamy feels chilling his bones somehow.

“About all of this, I guess. Whether what we’re doing is right? Are we going about trying to convince the Council in the right way? We will all be able to work together? If we can will it work? If it will work? What it means if it does work?”

“So not thinking about much then.” He snarks, illiciting a huff of laughter from Clarke.

“I like a plan.” She shrugs.

“Clearly.” He acknowledges, “but you know most of those are outside of your control.”

“I know. Doesn’t make me worry less.” 

“I get that.”

“For what it’s worth, I think the eight of us. We work. The rest I can’t predict but that I know.”

Clarke looks over at him then, her bright blue eyes roving over his face carefully before she smiles slightly.

“That’s high praise coming from you. I seem to remember you being pretty convinced you could never work with me or Roan.” 

“I mean I’m not about to braid his hair but I think we can work together.” Bellamy huffs.

“Aww but he has such lovely hair.” Clarke teases.

Bellamy scowls at her, which only makes her grin wider.

“Seriously though, there was one thing I was thinking about, and would like to get your take on it before I talk to everyone.”

Bellamy looks surprised that she’s asking him, but covers it well and he nods.

“I think we should have seconds.” Clarke says. He frowns and she adds, “well thirds technically, but they’d function as seconds.”

[SCENE ABOUT SECONDS/THIRDS WHO THEY'D BE AND WHY]

[SCENE ABOUT HOW THEY WILL COMMUNICATE]

“So what’s the plan with the, uhh,” Roan pauses and looks around the bar before powering his tone, “the existing members?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. But I am open to suggestions.” Raven sighs, passing his drink across the counter to him.

“There has to be a better way communicate” He grumbles quietly, pretending he’s finding some money.

"I'm working on it," She says quietly before smiling and accepting the money, "Tell me, what are your thoughts on jewellery?"

"Jewellery?"

"Jewellery that could be charmed to let us know when someone wanted to get in touch."

"I'm listening."]  
"Between us we can manipulate the elements enough to create something. I'm just not sure what."

"I'll think on it." He says, before picking up his drink and walking away.]


	10. A Calendar Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for small town Bellamy and Clarke and this was a product of that. Basic premise: Clarke left town after high school but she's back now and with two children who are her responsibility. Also, before she left she had one perfect night with Bellamy, will he be in town and will he remember (spoiler alert for a fic that will never be finished the answer is yes to both).

**AUGUST**

Clarke turned off the engine and sat in the car looking up at the house. Without the air-conditioning she could already feel the heat begin to rise in the car and knew she should get out – avoiding the inevitable, wouldn’t make it less inevitable – but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

The house, a classic two-story craftsman style had been an architectural gem, once, now it was unlived in and unloved. But it was hers.

If you’d asked her ten years ago what she thought her life would be like at 28 she would have said she’d be in a relationship, married maybe, living in the city and pursuing medicine. She would not have said she’d be a single parent to two kids and returning to the town she swore she’d never set foot in again.

Clarke put her head on the steering wheel with a frown. She had faced worse, she told herself – she could do this. She took a deep breath before swinging open the door and getting out of the car. The heat assaulted her as she walked towards the house, the air hot and heavy as was usual in mid-August. It was one of the things she’d forgotten about her hometown – one she hadn’t missed.

Clarke walked up the porch steps and put the key in the door, kicking it slightly when it stuck. She pushed the door and went in. The air smelt stale and with the tang of paint from the contractors last week, but she set about opening the windows and letting the faint breeze come through.

She glanced down at the old watch on her wrist. She had twenty minutes before the movers would arrive and then only four hours before she had to get back to the airport to fly home and collect the girls.

Clarke pulled her hair up into a messy bun and fished her phone out of the pocket of her jean shorts. She was just going to check in.

_**Raven** : We’re all fine. Do not call us. We won’t answer because we’re going to the park._

_Seriously we’re all ok. You’ve got this_

She snorted and put the phone on the counter. Apparently she was that predictable her best friend was calling her out before she’d even done anything.

Clarke walked around the house again, checking she was 100 per cent happy with the room choices she made and trying not to be overcome with self-doubt. When the movers arrived she was surprised to find they were a pleasant distraction.

*

When Bellamy Blake was 17 he had made a list. It was a list of places he was going to visit, things he was going to do and plans for the rest of his life. The top point on the list was in capitals and underlined several times.

NEVER COME BACK TO ARCADIA

None of the points on the list came true. He never lived in Europe. Never moved to New York. Never wrote a novel. He moved back to Arcadia.

There was a time, a few years in fact, where this had felt like a sentence worse than death. A betrayal of everything teenage Bellamy had wished for. But now, there was nowhere else he could see himself. His life made sense here.

This was something he was desperately trying to remind himself of as the mercury pushed towards 100 and he was breaking up yet another testosterone-fuelled fight.

“Remind me again why I thought supervising summer camp was a good idea.” He sighs.

“You didn’t. Your sister tricked us into it because we’re idiots.” Lincoln replied wryly.

“Sounds about right.” Bellamy chuckles, walking towards the boys who had forgotten the game of pick up they were playing and instead were shoving each other.

“What’s going on here?” He demanded, switching over to his teacher voice.

“Chris started it.”

“Fuck you, no I didn’t!”

“I don’t care who started it, or why.” Bellamy said holding up a hand to cut of protests, “you’re meant to be on the same team.”

“Do I need to get Mr Greenwood to give you another talk on respect on the playing field?” He said in his ‘teacher’ voice glancing over to Lincoln, who despite doing nothing other than standing with his arms crossed was looking very intimidating, mostly thanks to his impressive build and height.

“No.” The boys grumbled.

“Good, because it is hot enough without you two getting all hulk-smash on me.” The boys rolled their eyes at the comment, but were at least looking at each other and not fighting, so Bellamy counted it as a win.

He went back over to the sidelines with Lincoln as the game resumed.

“Remind me to tell your wife how much I hate her.” Bellamy grouched, pushing his hair back.

“Sure. Only if you remind me to tell your sister.” Lincoln laughed.

Bellamy grinned. He hadn’t been thrilled when his sister, Octavia, started dating Lincoln, he was too old for her, he’d argued. His job as a fire fighter was too dangerous. It had been one of the biggest fights he’d ever had with her, but now almost eight years later Bellamy can admit he can’t imagine his sister’s life without Lincoln in it.

Later, they’re in the backyard of Lincoln and Octavia’s place sitting in easy silence, both nursing a beer when the silence is broken.

“Daddy!”

Bellamy grins at the interruption and watches fondly as Lincoln rushes out of his chair to scoop up his daughter who is coming out of the back door towards them.

“Hello darling, how was your day?”

“Good! We did painting!” She grins wiggling her fingers that have the remnants of paint over them.

“I see that. Shall we say hi to Uncle Bellamy?”

“Hi!” the little girl trills.

“Hello little owl.” He grins at her, “did you paint a picture?”

“No! A wall!” She laughs running over to him with a cheeky grin.

She looks so like Octavia at that age, although her hair is wilder, more textured like Lincoln’s was the one memorable time he had a Mohawk, and her skin is darker, more like his. But there’s no denying she is Octavia’s daughter – cheeky and full of energy.

“A wall?” Bellamy asks.

“Miller’s dad was painting some old furniture in the garage and let her help.” Octavia clarifies, coming into the yard.

“Ok, that makes more sense.” Lincoln smiles and kisses her softly.

“You staying for dinner big brother?” Octavia asks.

“Who’s cooking?”

“Lincoln, obvs.” She shoots back.

“Then yes, obvs.” Bellamy grins.

Octavia scowls at him but he doesn’t see, his attention focused on his niece who is pulling at his leg.

“Yes?” He smiles.

“Hide and seek?”

Bellamy mock frowns but then with an exaggerated effort puts his hand over his eyes and starts counting.

“Ten, nine, eight….” the squeal of laughter fills the air as the little girl runs to hide.

“I can’t believe school starts back in two weeks, this summer has gone too quickly.” Bellamy says later, over dinner.

“I’m going to school.”

“Yes you are. You’re going to be in Miss Gina’s class.” Lincoln smiles down at his daughter who has spent all summer excited to start Kindergarten.

“Is she nice?” Athena asks curiously.

“She is the nicest. Right Bell.” Octavia says waggling her eyebrows.

“She is super nice and you will have the best time in her class.” Bellamy says to his niece, ignoring his sister.

He dated Gina for a couple of years, a couple of years ago. It was nice but ultimately just fizzled out. They’ve stayed friends though – in a town this small, there aren’t a lot of options – but he knows Octavia would like them to give it another go.

“Old man Miller told me something interesting today,” Octavia starts carefully, “Apparently someone saw moving trucks out by the old Griffin place.”

“I thought that place was empty.” Lincoln says.

“It was. Someone was moving in.” Octavia says, her eyes darting to Bellamy.

“That’s good, right? I don’t think anyone has lived their since Clarke’s grandmother passed.” He says, his voice deliberately even.

“Nope. I was pretty sure they still owned it.” She says.

“Maybe they do. Who knows?” Bellamy shrugs.

Lincoln doesn’t miss the slight change in atmosphere at the table, he’s been around the Blake’s too long, but he knows better than to push it.

“Right, bath time missy!” He grins at his daughter.

“Nope!”

“Yep!”

Athena pouts, sticking her lip out in a way that reminds Bellamy so much of Octavia that he can’t help but smirk at her.

“Not a word big brother.”

“How about this? Bath time and then story time?” Lincoln wheedles.

“Can Uncle Bell tell me a story in the bath. The one about the crab?” She asks.

Bellamy shrugs but looks to Lincoln and Octavia. He has no plans, but he doesn’t want to ruin their routine.

“Of course.” Lincoln smiles, “Now, bathroom.” He says scooping her up off her chair.

“The crab?” Octavia questions, clearing away the dishes.

“A retelling of the little mermaid from Sebastian’s point of view.” He grins, helping her with the plates.

“You are such a dork.” She laughs fondly.

*

It has been ten days since Clarke has been back in Arcadia. Ten days of trying to organise an entirely new life. Ten days of remembering what it’s like to think you’ll never be cool again.

“Can we go to the beach again today?” Madi asks.

“Not today, we need to go into town for school things.”

“What? Why? It’s such crap, the beach is the only decent thing about this place.” She replies, stalking off to her bedroom.

Clarke counts in her head getting to three before she hears Madi’s bedroom door slam.

She’d always known the transition would be hard, but she hadn’t thought it would be this bad. Madi is furious about leaving California and her friends behind, and Clarke can’t blame her. But the last year hasn’t been easy for any of them and she’s trying.

She clears away the breakfast plates and pokes her head into Sophia’s room, where the girl is colouring quietly on the bed. She heads back out and goes back to the kitchen.

“Tell me something good.” Clarke sighs when Raven picks up the phone on the second ring.

“I’ve created a computer program that responds to your mood, and we’re contemplating testing it in the robot dog that Jasper made.”

“That’s not good, that’s terrifying.”

“You didn’t specify who it was meant to be good for.” Raven counters.

Clarke snorts but doesn’t miss when Raven asks softly, “You ok?”

“Yes, no. I don’t know. I knew it would be hard but I didn’t think it would be this hard.” Clarke sighs, “Madi’s mad at me and misses her friends, which I get because I miss you guys too. So it’s not like I can’t understand but this was the right thing to do.”

“It was.” Raven says firmly, “Look, I know that place it’s probably a hundred degrees in the shade and you’ve never been good with hot weather.”

“Hey!” Clarke squeaks. But it’s true.

“So find something fun and air conditioned to do and all will seem better.”

“We’re going shopping for school stuff later.”

“Not what I meant, but a start.” Raven huffs, “it will get easier Clarke. It’s only been a week or so. You guys got through the last year, you can get through anything.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I only call to complain.”

“At least you call.”

Clarke can practically hear Raven’s grin through the phone.

“Go finish your creepy robot dog.” Clarke laughs.

“Harsh. Enjoy your shopping and call me anytime. Love you. And give my love to the girls.”

*

“I have got to stop hanging out at your house.” Bellamy grumbles, arms full of things.

“What? Why?” Octavia says distractedly.

“Because you con me into things. Like supervising summer camp or helping you go grocery shopping.”

“You love grocery shopping, shut up.” She grins, handing him a cantaloupe to put into the already overflowing basket.

“I really think you’ve got me confused with your other brother.”

“Oh yeah, the kind, handsome one. Maybe.” She teases poking her tongue out at him.

He grins at her as the sound of an argument floats over the aisle.

“Ow, give it back!”

“No! I want it.”

“See that’s why I came grocery shopping with you and left Lincoln at home with Athy.” Octavia grins as they round the aisle.

The turn into the aisle to be confronted by two girls – one small, with dark skin her hair in bunches, the other taller, pale skin and long dark hair braided on one side – fighting over a book of some kind.

“She said I can have it!” The smaller girl is saying, close to tears.

“No. She said you can have a book. Not a colouring book, you’ve got loads, you don’t need more.” The older girl snaps.

“Where are their grown ups?” Bellamy mutters to Octavia taking in the scene in front of them.

“Not sure. I don’t recognise them. Maybe they’re here for the summer?”

Just as Bellamy is thinking about doing something, intervening or checking if they’re ok, another voice enters the fray.

“Girls! What did I say about staying by the cart? You can’t run off like that.”

“Oh my god.” Octavia breathes softly.

Bellamy was privately thinking the exact same thing, because there at the other end of the aisle is Clarke Griffin.

“Let it go!” The older girl demands, and surprising all of them the younger one does. The book flies out of their hands and skids along the floor landing at the feet of Bellamy and Octavia.

Clarke notices them then. And Bellamy sees something, shock, worry, confusion, flit across her face for an instant before she’s schooling her features into something safer.

“Come on. Lets go and get the book.” She sighs, putting her cart to one side and scooping up the smaller child, balancing her on her hip.

“I’m sorry.” The older one says quietly.

“I know we’ll talk about it later.” Clarke says, squeezing her shoulder.

“I think this might belong to you.” Bellamy smiles hesitantly, picking up the book and holding it out to Clarke.

“Not yet. But apparently it’s highly prized.” She smiles, the corners of her mouth twisting.

“I’d heard the Griffin house was being lived in again, I didn’t realise it was by a Griffin.” Octavia says evenly.

“Do you know these people?” Madi whispers loudly.

“Yep. This is Octavia. We went to school together and this is her brother Bellamy.” Clarke smiles.

“This is Madi and Sophia.” Clarke adds for Octavia and Bellamy’s benefit.

She can see them trying to put it together but she’s in no mood to help out.

“Sorry about the noise. We’ve done a day of back to school shopping and I think we’re all shopped out.” Clarke says.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like we’ve never argued in a grocery store.” Bellamy says lightly.

If the children notice the strange tension in the air, the way that Octavia is glancing at them all as if trying to work out a puzzle piece. Or the way that Clarke and Bellamy are trying to determinedly keep things light they don’t comment on it.

“What school are you going to?” Bellamy asks Madi.

“Arcadia Middle.” She sighs wearily.

“It’s a good school. It’s where we all went.” Clarke grins, stopping the comment she knows Madi is about to make.

“You did?” Madi asks curiously looking at Bellamy and Octavia.

“Yep. And now I teach at the High School.” Bellamy smiles.

“High School, wow you’re brave.” Clarke grins.

“Nope, just a nerd.” Octavia teases fondly, before turning to Sophia, “And what about you? Are you starting school?”

The little girl buries her face in Clarke’s neck.

“Sorry, she’s shy around new people.” Clarke admits, “but she’s starting kindergarten.”

“My daughter is too.” Octavia smiles.

“And she is not shy. Athy will make her presence known.” Bellamy adds with a fond smile.

“Watch it!” Octavia teases.

“Well I’m sure we’ll see you around then.” Clarke says, effectively ending the conversation.

“I’m sure.” Octavia agrees. “Good to see you again Clarke. And nice to meet you two.”

“Bye!” Madi trills.

Clarke looks at Bellamy.

“See you around.” He smiles before following his sister.

She stands in the aisle for longer than she should before Madi pulls on her hand,

“Are we gonna go or do we just like, live here now.” She snarks, and Clarke follows her back to the cart to finish shopping.

*

When there’s a soft knock on the door after dinner, Clarke finds she isn’t surprised.

“Hey,” She says, opening the door to see Bellamy.

“Hey, sorry for dropping in like this. I know it’s late…” he trails off awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“It’s fine, I think I was kind of expecting it.” Clarke smiles.

“Yeah?”

She hadn’t thought about it but if she had she would have assumed he’d come by.

“Yeah. Can I get you anything, water? A beer? Wine?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.” He says following her inside.

“Where are the kids?” He asks, accepting the beer and following Clarke out to the back porch.

“Madi’s in her room and Sophia’s asleep.” Clarke says, sitting down on one of the porch chairs and motioning for Bellamy to do the same.

“Right.” After a beat, he adds, “I never thought I’d see you back in Arcadia.”

“Truth be told, I never thought I’d be back.”

“Can I ask why you are then?”

“The girls mostly. Although Madi does not see it that way.”

“Uhh, Sophia… I didn’t know you’d had a baby.” Bellamy says awkwardly.

It’s not the most elegant way to ask, but she’s had worse.

“I didn’t. Sophia is actually Wells’ daughter.”

“Oh, shit. I heard about that I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Safe to say the last few years have not been the best.” Clarke shrugs, picking at the corner of the label on her bottle.

“My dad passed. Cancer. And just as I was getting over that, Wells and Maya die in a car wreck. Sophia was in the car but she didn’t have a scratch on her.”

“Jeez.” Bellamy exhales.

“Maya had no family. And Wells’ dad, Thelonious – do you remember him?”

“Vaguely.” Bellamy admits, “I only really knew Wells because of you.”

“Well the grief broke Thelonious, he moved to Polis and joined a new age church, which definitely sounds like a cult. So with no family, they looked to me the Godmother and because I already had Madi, they knew I’d be happy to take her. But it took almost another year to work it all out.”

“That is a lot.” Bellamy says, “How come you ended up back in Arcadia?”

“We already had the house. My grandma left it to me in the will. And it’s a good place for a family. Close enough to my mom and Thelonious, if he ever comes back to himself.”

Bellamy nods, looking out over the lake at the back of Clarke’s yard. It was always the best thing about the old Griffin house – it was right on the water.

“And Madi? How long have you had her?”

“What makes you so sure she’s not mine?” Clarke asks lightly.

“Because she’s starting middle school, which makes her around eleven. And I knew you 11 years ago, you were not pregnant.”

“No I wasn’t.” She admits. A ghost of a memory, hands floating over her stomach and latching on to her hips floats through her mind but she pushes it down, as she has done for years.

“Madi was the first foster child I took on. Her parents were super young when they had her and then her mother died. She had no one and I just knew I wanted to help. I officially adopted her about two years ago, right before Wells and Maya died.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well I didn’t exactly publicise it. Besides other than Wells and Raven, I didn’t exactly stay in touch with anyone here.”

“Raven Reyes?”

“No the other Raven we know.” Clarke teases.

“That’s fair.” He grins, “How is she?”

They talk about Raven. Clarke tells him about how brilliant she is. How she’s dating a man who looks at her like she hung the moon, but challenges her relentlessly. She asks about his sister and he tells her about Octavia and Lincoln. Coos over his niece.

“Athena? Seriously?”

“You can’t even blame me. That one was all O.” He laughs.

It’s so easy catching up like this as the sun goes down that it’s only when Madi comes out that Clarke realises how late it is.

“Clarke?” The girl calls out quietly from the doorway.

“Hey, you ok?” She asks, getting up and going over to Madi quickly.

“Yeah, I just came to get some water and saw the light.” She shrugs, looking over at Bellamy.

“You remember Bellamy.” Clarke says to Madi, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Yeah. Your friend’s brother,” Madi says, “from the store.”

“Something like that,” Bellamy chuckles. “I should be going though, it’s late. Nice to meet you again Madi.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Madi shrugs.

“Go on in, I’ll be up in a minute.” Clarke tells her.

“Sorry about that.” She says turning to Bellamy, “She’s going through a phase.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I remember Octavia at that age.” He smiles, “I should go though.”

“Of course. Thanks for coming over.”

“What are the brothers of friend’s for?” He laughs.

Clarke walks him around the house to the front where his car is parked.

“Uhh, Clarke. If you need anything or just want a friend… I’m around. I know it’s been a while, but…” he trails off awkwardly running his hand through his hair.

“Thank you. Maybe we can work on being friends in our own right this time.” She laughs.

“Sounds complicated.” He teases. “Bye Clarke.”

She surprises herself, and him, by reaching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Bye.” She breathes, squeezing tightly before letting go.

Clarke waves over her shoulder as she heads into the house and Bellamy tries not to think about the last time he held her, ten years ago. He shakes his head to clear the memory and gets into his car.

**SEPTEMBER**

It’s been about two weeks since school started and Clarke thinks they’re doing pretty well, they’ve found some routine at least. Which is why getting called into the classroom to speak to the teacher on Friday pick up is such a surprise, even more so considering is Sophia’s teacher that wants to see her. Not that Clarke was expecting trouble, but she would’ve put money on meeting Madi’s teachers first.

“Hi, Miss Griffin right?” A pretty brunette smiles when Clarke makes her way into the classroom.

She nods and glances round instantly for Sophia who is playing with another young, darker skinned girl, in the corner, with a teaching assistant sitting with them.

“Is Sophia in trouble?” Clarke asks.

“No nothing like that, we’re just waiting for— ah here they are.”

The teacher, Miss Gina, Clarke remembers, smiles at someone behind Clarke. She turns to look, surprised to see Octavia with a tall, broad, dark skinned man behind her.

“Clarke?” Octavia scowls.

“I’m sorry, what’s this about?” Clarke says turning back to the teacher.

“Let’s step outside shall we.” She says maneuvering the three adults out into the corridor.

They step outside and Octavia is still scowling at Clarke, who for her part is scowling between the teacher and Octavia.

“I see no introductions are necessary.” Miss Gina smiles.

“Uhh, actually they are. Hi I’m Lincoln, Octavia’s husband.” The man says softly, putting his hand out to Clarke.

“Clarke Griffin. I went to school with Octavia and have just moved back.” Clarke says, shaking Lincoln’s hand before turning back to Miss Gina “And frankly would like to know what’s going on.”

“Me too.” Octavia adds.

“Now, I don’t want anyone to worry.” Miss Gina starts.

“Yeah, that’s never comforting.” Clarke mutters and hears Octavia muffle a snort.

“There was an incident in class today and I wanted to talk to you guys about it.”

“Did the girls get in a fight?” Lincoln asks.

“Sophia wouldn’t.” Clarke says automatically.

“Oh an Athena would?” Octavia snaps.

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just with everything that’s happened Soph is afraid of her own shadow most of the time. I’m amazed she’s even playing with your daughter in there.” Clarke sighs.

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” Octavia fumbles, Lincoln putting a comforting had on her shoulder.

“It’s ok. Over-protective Blake’s, I remember.” Clarke shrugs.

“So what did happen?” Lincoln asks Miss Gina.

“One of the other children made a remark that upset the girls. To be fair, it upset them less than it should because they’re so young.” Miss Gina explains.

“What kind of remark?” Octavia growls.

But Clarke knows what they’re all thinking. Sophia and Athena don’t have exactly the same skin tone, but it’s not far off.

“One of the little boys was clearly repeating something he heard at home.”

“Which was?” Clarke snaps.

Miss Gina pauses.

“Seriously Gina, you know me. Not telling me is not going to make this go away.” Octavia sighs.

“They were all playing at recess and when Sophia and Athena wanted to join in skip rope he said the little darkies should play together.” Miss Gina says as though the words physically pain her.

“What the fuck!” Clarke huffs.

“Are the girls ok?” Lincoln asks.

“Yes, they were mostly upset they couldn’t play with the jump rope but they told my assistant Clara who told me.”

“Who was the kid?” Clarke asks.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Seriously? What do you think I’m going to do? I won’t hurt a four year old,” Clarke grumbles, before adding, “the parents maybe.”

Octavia laughs at that and shares a look with Clarke.

“You might as well tell us G. I’ll find out anyway. You know I will.”

Clarke can see Gina debating with herself, so she adds.

“Sophia will tell me if I ask who wouldn’t let her play today, but I’d rather not make her relive it.”

That seems to do the trick because Gina sighs, twirling a piece of hair in what is clearly a nervous gesture before saying:

“It was Connor Wallace.”

“Should have fucking guessed.” Octavia snarls.

“Good to see some things in Arcadia don’t change.” Clarke grumbles, at Gina and Lincoln’s questioning look she adds, “We went to school with the Wallace’s they were racist assholes then.”

“God, what was that one in Bell’s year called? Chad or something?” Octavia says.

“Cage. And he was a total creep. Remember he tried to feel up Raven and she punched him.”

“Ahh happy times.” Octavia laughs.

Lincoln and Gina are sharing a bemused look.

“Small town.” Clarke shrugs.

“Yeah, I know. I just sometimes forget.” He smiles at her warmly.

“Are we done?” Clarke asks suddenly, noticing the time on the big clock in the corridor “It’s just I have to get Madi from school too.”

“Of course.” Miss Gina says, “I’ll go and tell the girls to get ready and give you guys a minute.”

Miss Gina goes off into the classroom leaving the three of them out in the corridor.

“I knew moving Soph to a small town was a risk but I forgot about bigoted assholes like the Wallace’s.” Clarke sighs.

“For what it’s worth, there are bigoted assholes all over the place. Not just small towns.” Lincoln tells her.

“Comforting.” She snorts, getting a small smile out of him.

“Shit, I really am going to be late.” Clarke sighs looking up again at the hallway clock.

Octavia looks at her for a moment, face thoughtful before saying:

“We can take Sophia home with us if you want. And then you come and get her. We always do a big informal thing on Friday’s everyone comes for food or whatever, so you and Madi could just join after?”

“Are you sure?” Clarke says hesitantly, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Yeah of course. It’s completely casual, but now you’re back it’s about time you started seeing people again.” Octavia shrugs.

“Ok. Let me just check with Soph, but thanks.”

Clarke goes in to check with Sophia, who is thrilled at spending time with her new friend and then rushes out to get Madi.

“What are you up to?” Lincoln asks shrewdly as they’re walking with the girls to the car.

“Nothing.” Octavia smiles, “Clarke was cool in high school, I doubt she’s changed that much and they seem to be getting along.” She adds gesturing to the kids.

“Mmmm hmmm.” Lincoln replies. He knows his wife better than that.

*

Clarke is telling Madi about the change in evening plans when it occurs to her that she has no idea where Octavia lives now and doesn’t have a number for her.

She knows that the number is on the emergency round robin sheet that Clarke thoughtfully tacked to the fridge the first day of school, which means driving all the way back out to the house.

It’s not something she wants to do but it’s the only way and gives her time with Madi.

“How was school?”

“Fine.”

“What did you learn?”

“Stuff.”

“Sounds like an excellent use of taxpayer funds.” Clarke deadpans.

Madi rolls her eyes and Clarke wonders if that’s something all eleven year olds do, or just hers.

She does relax eventually telling Clarke about a girl she sits next to, Charlotte, who seems “kinda cool.”

“It’s quiet without Soph.” Madi says when they’re almost home.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah it’s like, something is missing.” Madi says not making eye contact with Clarke.

“Well that’s because something is, but we’ll see her in about 30 minutes and you’ll be telling me what a pain she is, so remember this.”

Madi rolls her eyes.

When Clarke makes it back to the house she digs out Octavia’s number and tells her that they’ll be about half an hour. Octavia reassures her that Sophia is fine and that they can get there whenever because it’s all just friends and family.

The idea of being including in the Blake’s friends and family again makes Clarke feel a little strange but she pushes it down and focuses on getting Madi back in the car as they drive to the other side of town where Octavia lives.

*

“I bet you someone mentions the weather within the first five minutes of ya being at Octavia’s.” Clarke grins.

“You’re on.” Madi smirks, “no one cares about the weather like you do!”

Clarke laughs.

“What do I get when I win?” Madi asks.

“Umm, you get to pick the movie for the next two movie nights.” Clarke suggests.

Madi nods in approval.

“But when I win you have to not roll your eyes for the rest of the evening.” Clarke tells her.

“Fine whatever,” madi responds rolling her eyes.

Clarke pulls up outside Octavia’s and there are a couple of cars already there.

Madi stays close to Clarke as they walk up the path to the house.

“Hey!” Octavia grins opening the door widely.

“Hi, thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it!” She shrugs before turning to Madi, “it’s Madi, right? We met in the store.”

“Yeah, hi.” Madi says shyly.

“Come on in and meet everyone.” Octavia says ushering them into the house.

The house is bright and homely with pictures on every wall and toys scattered about. It’s lived in.

“Follow me, we’re all out the back.” Octavia says, “Ok I’ll do introductions real quick.”

“You guys know Bellamy. This is my husband Lincoln and our friend Miller.”

“Hey Griffin.” He smirks at Clarke.

“Seriously, Miller? Still with the surnames.” She laughs.

“School?” Madi asks Clarke with a raised brow.

“Yeah, he was in the same grade as Bellamy and Aunt Raven.”

Madi nods.

“And the man next to him is his husband Monty.” Octavia continues.

"Nice to meet you." Monty smiles and shakes Clarke's hand. Madi smiles shyly.

"Bell is out there somewhere." Octavia says.

"I think he's fixing the awning with Lincoln. For the rain later." Miller remarks.

"But it's glorious." Monty looks up at the blue sky.

"You've lived here for three years you should know it turns on a knife edge this time of year. Remember the Northeasterly last fall." Miller replies.

Clarke pointedly looks at Madi who goes to roll her eyes but remembers at the last minute that she's not meant to.

"You lot and the weather, it's strange." Monty grumbles. Madi nods enthusiastically in agreement.

"Fishing town." Octavia, Clarke and Miller all say simultaneously.

"Are any of you even fishermen?" Madi huffs.


	11. Two Houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you really call yourself a fanfic writer if you don't take on the Mafia trope? This would've been my version – Bellamy and Clarke are from opposing families, they were in love but when they were found out they were sent away and separated... but now they're both back and the lines aren't as clear as they once were.

“That’s interesting.” Abigail Griffin says from behind the paper in a tone that means she’s not actually interested but wants everyone’s attention.

It’s breakfast time in the Griffin household. Normally breakfast is a grab and go affair but every Sunday the whole family – and whoever else is around – sits down for a proper breakfast. It’s in the kitchen, so not as formal as Friday night dinners, but everyone who is home is expected to attend. Today that means Jake, who is in his usual seat at the head of the table, as well as John Murphy and Roan, who are on the payroll, and Clarke, Abby and Jakes’ daughter.

“What is?” Jake asks, sharing a smile with Clarke.

“Octavia Kane-Blake is getting married. There’s an announcement in the style section.” Abby says, folding the paper in half and handing it to Jake.

“I didn’t know she was dating anyone serious.” Clarke says casually.

“She was dating that Lincoln dude for a while.” Roan says absently helping himself to more coffee.

“That’s who she’s marrying according to this.” Jake says passing the paper to Clarke.

“Wow, they’re an attractive couple.” Clarke smiles, looking at the picture that takes up half the page.

“She’s from an attractive family.” Murphy smirks at Clarke.

She’s sitting too far away from him to kick him so instead contents herself with rolling her eyes at him.

“Indeed. That does make sense though, I’d heard Bellamy was back in town.” Abby says too casually.

“Is that right.” Clarke replies, matching her tone and passing the paper over to Murphy.

“Yes, I thought you might know that already.” Abby adds.

“Nope. Haven’t spoken to the Blake’s or Kane-Blake’s in years mother, you know that.” Clarke says primly.

“Of course,” Abby smiles at Clarke, before turning to Jake, “Father Mac wants to speak with us after mass. I assume he wants more money for the renovations, but I said we’d do coffee with him.”

“Coffee after 11.30 mass, got it.” Jake smiles at her.

Abby gets up from the table telling them that’s she going to get ready for mass and expects them all to be ready to leave at 11am – no arguments. The last bit is added for Clarke’s benefit.

“Twenty bucks says Mac will be on the Jameson for sure.” Murphy smirks at Jake when Abby’s gone.

“John, you know I don’t make bets I won’t win.” Jake grins at him.

Clarke chuckles along with the others. Father Mac has been the family priest for years and you can guarantee two things about him – he will always bet on the horses and the man likes a strong drink.

Jake follows Abby out of the room and Roan goes to check on the cars leaving Clarke and Murphy to clean up.

“Do you want to keep this?” Murphy asks cheekily holding up the paper.

“Fuck you.”

Murphy starts handing Clarke the plates to put in the dishwasher, it’s an easy silence. Murphy has lived with the Griffin’s practically his whole adult life. Moving in when Clarke was a teenager after his parents died in unexplained circumstances.

“Did you know he was back?” Clarke asks.

“No.” Murphy tells her honestly, “Not this time.”

Clarke nods.

“I would’ve given you a heads up, I swear.”

“I know.” Clarke says with a small smile, “come on. If we’re the reason they’re late for mass I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The first two pews are reserved for the Griffin family and when it’s all of them, they do take up the space. Today it’s only the five of them. Clarke knows that she’s not the only one who doesn’t truly believe anymore, but it’s not about that – it’s about being seen.

Father Mac’s sermon is particularly long-winded today and try as Clarke might she can’t stop her mind from wandering. Inevitably her thoughts land on Bellamy Blake. She hasn’t seen him for six years. Not since their families found out about their relationship.

Last she’d heard he was in Italy. Of course, she doesn’t really hear much about him. Neither of the families is big on social media for obvious reasons, and given that she was effectively banished to stop their relationship no one is forthcoming on giving her updates about him.

She’d seen a picture of him with Octavia at some society gala a few years ago – keeping up appearances – but nothing recently.

Clarke’s musings carry her through mass and before she knows it, she’s saying goodbye to her parents and getting into the car with Roan.

Technically he is her driver, but like most people in the family he does more than one job. As for what those other jobs are, Clarke doesn’t ask. She also doesn’t know if he has a second name, some questions just don’t have answers in her world.

Monty is sitting in the kitchen when Clarke and Roan get home. Murphy left them outside the church to “go and see some people about some things”.

“How did you get out of mass, again?” Clarke whines sitting down next to him.

“I was working late last night, so slept in.” He shrugs.

Nominally Monty Green runs IT for Griffin Enterprises. He also lives with the Griffin’s and has done since his mother disappeared a few years ago. It happened when Clarke was away at school so she doesn’t know him as well as she knows Murphy, but what she does know she likes

Clarke is in the kitchen helping Murphy, who came back muttering about incompetent people, while Monty sits at the table tapping away on his laptop when her parents get home later that afternoon.

“Father Mac wants twenty grand towards the new roof. Honestly that man must think we were born yesterday.” Jake grumbles as he comes into the kitchen.

“And how many drinks did it take for him to ask that?” Murphy smirks.

“Three.” Jake admits with a grin grabbing a beer from the fridge. Clarke smiles back at him, she missed these more relaxed moments when she was away, its nice to see her dad like this.

“Are you telling them about Father Mac?” Abby asks as she comes into the kitchen. She’s changed from her formal church wear, but even in simple black jeans and a grey cashmere jumper she still looks like she could be in a photo shoot.

“20K apparently.” Clarke says.

“Honestly, the amount of money we’ve given the church over the years St. Stephen’s should be a damn cathedral.” Abby says rolling her eyes and swiping Jake’s beer.

“Well mother, absolution does come at a price.” Clarke smirks.

“Very funny sweetheart.” Abby deadpans as the rest of the room laugh.

*

Clarke works at a small gallery downtown. It’s owned by a friend of Abby’s and wouldn’t be Clarke’s first choice for a job but it was between that and working for the family business when she returned and, well, the family business isn’t really something she wants any part of.

It’s been a quiet, uneventful week, when Octavia Kane-Blake walks in. Clarke hasn’t seen her in six years either but it takes only a split second for them to recognise each other.

“I didn’t know you worked here.” Octavia says cautiously.

There isn’t really anything to say to that, so Clarke doesn’t. Instead she smiles at the man with Octavia, who she recognises from the engagement announcement.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Clarke smiles. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yes. Thank you.” Octavia says smiling softly at the big man next to her, the large diamond glinting on her finger.

“Lincoln.” He says offering his hand.

“Oh yes, sorry. Linc this is Clarke.” Octavia says as Clarke shakes Lincoln’s hand with a smile.

Clarke waits a beat for what she knows is coming, “Clarke Griffin,” Octavia adds.

Lincoln’s eyes narrow imperceptibly but his smile stays on.

“Nice to meet you.” He says politely.

“Likewise.” Clarke smiles. “Can I help you guys with anything particular or are you just browsing?”

They talk art for a while and Clarke enjoys talking to Lincoln. It’s nice to be able to put her art history degree to use instead of just selling abstract paintings to wealthy socialites. Octavia hovers around the edges of the conversation, deferring to Lincoln’s taste and opinion. And when she steps out to take a phone call Clarke tries not to think about whom she might be talking to.

They don’t buy anything, but take down the names of a couple of local artists, which Clarke considers a win. Patronage from the Kane-Blake’s would be no small thing for some of these artists.

As they say their goodbye’s Octavia seems to be warring with herself.

She’s almost out of the door when she turns back to Clarke.

“If you wanted to come he wouldn’t mind. I know only your parents responded and I understand why, but from our side it wouldn’t be an issue.” She says stiffly.

Clarke has no idea what the other girls is talking about but it doesn’t show – one of the three things that stuck with her from her time at boarding school in Switzerland was how to keep her face impassive when she needs to.

“Thank you for saying that.” She says with a smile.

Octavia nods and gives Clarke a small smile before leaving the gallery. Clarke is left unsure of what the hell Octavia was talking about but with a pretty good idea who might know.

*

When Clarke gets home she heads straight to Abby’s home office where she finds her mother sitting with Jackson, her assistant. Clarke puts her head around the door to say hi.

“Hello sweetheart, your father is out tonight so I thought we could just have a light supper.” Abby says not taking her eyes off the documents in front of her.

“Sure thing mom. Hey Jackson.”

“Hey Clarke, how was the gallery.” He asks politely.

“Fine,” Clarke smiles waiting a beat before adding lightly, “I ran into Octavia Kane-Blake today.”

“Is that so.” Abby replies, closing the file she was reading before looking up and motioning Clarke into the room.

Abby is CEO of Griffin Enterprises, but it’s a titular role more than anything. The day-to-day work at the business is done by Jake, which is not to say that Abby isn’t involved. She is. It’s just in a different way.

“Yes. She mentioned your RSVP for the event.” Clarke tries casually.

“Jackson will you give us a minute.” Abby says with a smile.

“Of course.” He nods, swapping places with Clarke as she comes in the room.

“I was going to tell you sweetheart, your father and I were discussing it only this morning.” Abby begins.

Clarke waits for her mother to continue, mostly so that she doesn’t give away her ignorance.

“Marcus Kane and one of Lincoln’s family are hosting an engagement party for the couple.” Abby sighs handing over a heavy cream envelope.

Clarke takes it from her mother, and opens it. Inside is an invitation on a heavy stock with gold embossing and beautiful calligraphy, it must have cost a fortune and is an impressive display of wealth.

“Marcus Kane and Indra Woods invite you...” Clarke begins before pausing and looking at her mother.

“Indra Woods, as in Kane’s associate Indra?” Clarke she asks.

Abby nods.

“Keeping it in the family.” Clarke mutters, “Should’ve guessed.”

Clarke continues reading: “to celebrate the engagement of Octavia Kane-Blake and Lincoln Woods on Friday 5 September.”

“That’s next Friday, like, a week away.” Clarke says.

“It is.”

“And it’s addressed to all of us.” Clarke says scowling up at her mother.

“Yes. It’s a power play darling. They want us there so that they can say that any bad blood comes from our side.”

“Are you going?”

“We were going to make an appearance. It’s very short notice and we have tickets to the ballet, but we were going to stop by.”

“And were you going to tell me?” Clarke snaps.

“Of course. I just didn’t want you to get upset, like you are now.” Abby sighs.

“I’m not upset!” Clarke snaps, before taking a deep breath and trying to even-out her voice, “but you can’t make these decision for me. I’m not a child anymore.”

“I know that.”

“Sometimes I think you forget.” Clarke shoots back.

“If you want to come of course, we’ll support that. I just don’t want things to be difficult for you.” Abby says reasonably.

“Octavia said it was fine either way. So why don’t I think about it.”

“Absolutely. And we can talk to your father when he’s home too. I know he has a view.”

“Everyone normally does.” Clarke grumbles, getting up out of her seat. She drops the invitation on her mother’s desk and leaves the room.

She’s been back at home less than a month and already she wishes she’d never returned.

*

On the other side of town a different discussion is happening.

“I’m just saying, I don’t see why everyone makes out like she’s the devil – she’s just a girl.” Lincoln is saying to Octavia.

“It’s not her so much as her family.” Octavia sighs.

They’re sitting out on the terrace, Octavia with a glass of white wine and Lincoln with a mineral water.

“Fine. But you’ve been strange all afternoon.”

“It’s just weird. You weren’t here for it all, you won’t get it.” She sighs.

“Who doesn’t get what?” Raven asks coming out onto the terrace.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Octavia grouches.

“Yes, repeatedly. And you’re one to talk.” Raven smirks perching on the bench next to Octavia.

Octavia elbows her in the leg.

“We saw Clarke today.” Octavia says after a beat.

“Clarke Griffin. Our Clarke?”

“Our Clarke?” Lincoln frowns.

“See this is what I mean, it’s complicated.” Octavia says talking a sip of her wine.

“Does he know she’s back?” Raven asks, ignoring the other conversation.

“Yeah. Kane and Indra invited the whole Griffin family to our party and I know he ran it past Bell. Plus I called him when I saw her.”

“And?”

“And what?” Octavia counters.

“You’re telling me he had no view, on any of it.” Raven sighs.

“Of course he did, but he didn’t tell me.”

“Are they coming to the party?”

“Abby and Jake RSVP’d yes but I don’t know about Clarke. I told her she was welcome.”

“Did you mean it?” Raven asks shrewdly.

“Of course, I have no issue with her.”

“Why does everyone talk about her like she’s the grim reaper?” Lincoln asks, “she’s just a small blonde girl.”

“In fairness, everyone is small to you.” Raven grins.

“Funny, but I’m serious.” Lincoln replies.

“You know the Griffin’s run Griffin Enterprises.” Raven starts.

“Of course.”

“Well they do that like Kane runs Kane Construction.” Octavia says.

“Ahh, I see.”

Octavia doesn’t elaborate – she doesn’t need to.

Lincoln grew up around Kane, thanks to his Aunt Indra. He might not be involved in the day-to-day of Kane’s business but he’s savvy enough to know that his aunt is more than a CMO.

As for Octavia she’s lived in the Kane household her whole life. First when Aurora worked for Kane as his assistant and then, after she died, Kane kept Octavia and Bellamy around, keeping them in school, setting Bellamy up with work. He even adopted Octavia when there were complications regarding her guardianship.

She has been aware of what their family is her whole life. If you were to ask the press they’d say the Griffin’s and Kane’s are crime families, but it’s more complicated than that. They have legitimate businesses, and a legitimate staff – like Raven. She does the IT and Security for Kane Construction, but Octavia knows that’s not all of it.

“But the Griffin’s are coming to the party, so why is Clarke such a big deal?” He asks.

“The feud between the Kane’s and Griffin’s goes back so many generations I’m not sure anyone really knows where it begins but it’s bad.” Octavia says.

“I know that.”

“Well six years ago, Clarke and Bellamy got caught together.” Raven tells him, adding after a beat, “together, together.”

“Oh.”

“Think Romeo and Juliet with less death and more swearing.” Raven adds with a small chuckle.

“She’s laughing but it was bad. It turns out they’d been dating in secret for months. Marcus and Clarke’s parents fucking lost it. They were banned from seeing each other.” Octavia tells him.

“Of course, they ignored that and carried on dating.” Raven says.

“When they got caught again, no one trusted them. They sent Clarke to school in Europe and when she came back to the US to study, Marcus made sure that Bell was never in the same area as her. That’s when he started dealing with European side of things.”

“And it worked?” Lincoln asks.

“Yep. As far as I know, the last time they saw each other was six years ago.” Raven confirms.

“Ok, that makes a bit more sense. I still don’t get why it was such a big deal though, I mean ok the families don’t like each other but…” Lincoln tails off.

“I never got it either and I’m not sure Clarke and Bellamy did but trust me, it was not good.” Raven shrugs.

“Welcome to the family.” Octavia deadpans.

*

“Have you got a sec?” Clarke asks knocking on Monty’s door.

His room is at the top of the house with Roan and Murphy. She doesn’t go up there much, has no need to – they usually hang out in the common areas – but she wanted a moment with Monty.

“Sure. Come in.” He smiles.

“If I needed to get hold of someone without anyone knowing and didn’t have their contact details – would you be able to do that?”

Monty regards her for a minute and closes his laptop.

“Possibly.”

“Possibly yes depending on the circumstances or possibly depending on the difficulty.”

“It’s not a difficult thing to do.” He answers carefully.

Clarke pushes the door to and comes into the room.

“How much do you know about our relationship with the Kane family?” She asks.

“The basics. We don’t do work with their companies, we don’t associate with their staff or family members and we don’t go to places that they own ever if we can help it but especially not alone.”

Clarke nods.

“I broke one of those rules when I was 16.” Clarke says, “I fell in love with Bellamy, Kane’s kinda-adoptive son and the presumptive heir to the empire.”

“I’m going to guess that didn’t go well.”

“Huh, no, not exactly.” Clarke chuckles.

“Did he love you too?” Monty asks.

“Yeah, he did.” Clarke had never doubted that. What they had was real.

“And it’s him you want to get in touch with.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe him or maybe you want to get in touch?”

“The second one.” Clarke sighs, flopping down on the couch that Monty has in his room.

“His sister is getting married and the family is throwing an engagement party. I’ve been invited but he’ll be there and I don’t want to go if he doesn’t want me there but she said it was fine, but ugh, I don’t know."

“That was not helpful.” Monty smirks.

“I loved him such a long time ago, and who knows if our families hadn’t been against it maybe it would have lasted but it didn’t. And now, I want to go, I hate this bullshit between the families, but I don’t want to see him for the first time in front of everyone if he doesn’t want to see me.” Clarke whines.

“Does that make sense?” She asks.

“Sure. Why not set up a meeting then, before the party, just between you and him. Keep the family out of it for now.” Monty suggests.

Clarke chews on her lip, thinking about it.

“That’s not a bad plan, you know.”

Clarke sits up and hammers on the wall next to her, the wall she knows leads to Murphy’s room.

“Murphy, get in here.”

“What the fuck dude?” Murphy drawls a few minutes later as he opens up Monty’s door, “should’ve known,” he adds seeing Clarke.

“If I wanted to see Bellamy could we keep it off the family radar?” Clarke asks with no preamble.

“Seriously?” he groans.

“Yeah, seriously.”

“You haven’t even been home a month, why are you always trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“That’s not a no.” Clarke smirks.

“Would it stop you if I did say no?”

“Nope.”

“That’s what I thought. Yeah, it can be done if we need to. But I’m going on record now to say I do not support the idea of you two sneaking around again.”

“Not sneaking. A conversation.”

“Yeah I’ve heard that before.” He grumbles, but he begrudgingly sits down next to Clarke to form a plan.

*

“O, I love you but I don’t need a new suit for your engagement party. I have a suit, I have hundreds of the fucking things.” Bellamy grumbles.

“Don’t moan at me big brother, this comes from Kane and Indra. I don’t give a fuck what you wear, I’ll look fabulous and so will Lincoln and that’s all that matters.” Octavia smirks.

Miller snorts from front where he’s driving.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing. You need a new suit too Nathan.” Octavia tells him.

“As long as you lot are paying for it I don’t give a shit.” Miller replies.

“See, that’s the spirit. Be more like Miller, Bell.” Octavia grins.

“Advice that has worked for no one, ever.” Bellamy grumbles, and Miller flips him off without taking his eyes from the road.

When they arrive at the tailors Bellamy and Octavia get out and go inside as Miller takes the car around the block to park. Technically he’s not their driver, he’s part of the security detail that Kane employs, but as he’s also Bellamy’s best friend, he tends to be with him when he’s in the country, which means being his driver/bodyguard occasionally.

He’s walking around the corner to the tailors when he sees John Murphy coming towards him. It’s not normal to see a member of the Griffin employ, particularly as this is primarily a Kane area, so Miller stands a bit more alert and moves his hand to his side where his gun is.

Miller knows Murphy though, has done for years, which is why he’s a bit more relaxed than he would usually be.

“Persephone’s home.” Murphy mutters, when they’re almost level.

“No way. No fucking way.” Miller grumbles, but he knows it’s too late. He feels the heavy thud of something land in his pocket and knows from experience that it’s a burner phone.

“Just doing what I’m told.” Murphy shrugs, and Miller takes comfort from the fact that Murphy looks as annoyed as he feels.

Miller pauses before going into the tailor, unsure of the next step. He knows what this is – the Greek mythology reference, the burner phone – it’s how Bellamy and Clarke used to arrange their meetings when they couldn’t contact each other personally. But it’s been a hell of a long time since it was used, and well, Miller is certain that Bellamy doesn’t know this is coming. Which means Clarke is trying to reach out to Bellamy.

Miller was around for the whole thing six years ago. He is one of the only people along with Murphy and Raven who truly got a front row seat to the whole fiery mess.

He nearly lost his job the first time. It was only because the Miller’s have worked for the Kane’s for years that he was kept on. And that Bellamy swore to Kane that no one else knew, that Miller had nothing to do with it.

The Kane’s pay his wages, the right thing to do would be to dump the phone and pretend he never saw Murphy. But, Bellamy is his best friend, and well, Miller really did witness the whole thing. He knows it was real.

“Dude, what took you so long?” Octavia complains when Miller pushes open the door to the tailor.

“Jeez, didn’t know we were on a time limit.” Miller snarks.

“Bell’s being an ass. He won’t try anything on and is refusing every fabric I suggest. I’m going to get a coffee with Hassan. Please get him to try something on.” Octavia groans, pushing Miller towards Bellamy who is lounging on the leather couch scowling.

She throws a glare at her brother as she walks through to the back to get a coffee with Hassan, the owner, in his cutting room.

“Why do you make your life so complicated? Try one of the styles she’s suggested, in a fabric she likes, get Hassan to fit it for you. Job done. Then we can get out of here.” Miller grumbles sitting on the arm of the couch facing Bellamy.

“I’ve got to make my fun where I can and winding up O, is my fun.” Bellamy smirks.

“Hmm, remember that feeling.” Miller sighs, making sure they’re alone in the room before pulling the burner phone out of his jacket pocket.

“Trojan Horse.” He says passing the phone to Bellamy.

Miller can tell by Bellamy’s reaction – the way his face pales and the confusion flickering in his eyes that he did not know this was happening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bellamy says, looking up at Miller.

“Nope.”

“What the fuck?” Bellamy mutters looking at the phone.

“You knew she was back in town. Octavia saw her.”

“Yeah, I knew, but I wasn’t expecting to hear from her.” He mutters, “It is from her, right?”

“Hand delivered by John-fucking-Murphy.” Miller confirms.

“What does she want?” Bellamy says.

“I know that was probably rhetorical but the only way to find out is to turn the phone on.” Miller shrugs.

He’s expecting the scowl response from Bellamy and is not disappointed.

Bellamy turns the phone on and stares at it, as if it might explode. The screen lights up blue and they wait.

“Come on, at least pick a fabric. Your sister will get suspicious otherwise.” Miller suggests as a distraction.

They’re flipping through the swatch books when the phone beeps.

 _ **Unknown**_ : _A drink for old times sake_

_Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning_

“Fuck.” Bellamy mutters, “It’s her.”

Miller knew it would be, Murphy wouldn’t have been involved otherwise, but seeing Bellamy’s reaction makes him feel like it’s six years all over again.

“You don’t have to go. We can ignore the message and pretend it never happened.” Miller says. He knows that won’t be what happens but he wants to remind his friend that it’s an option.

“It’s probably just about the engagement party, right? I mean I know O saw her and told her to come but she probably just wants to make sure it’s not going to be an issue. I mean it won’t be an issue, but she probably wants to check.”

“Dude, breathe.” Miller sighs.

“I’m fine.” Bellamy snaps. At Miller’s raised eyebrow he adds, “It’s just a lot. I mean it’s been six years, I wasn’t expecting to hear from her so soon.”

“But you were expecting to hear from her?” Miller asks shrewdly.

“Yeah, I guess.” Bellamy mutters quietly not taking his eyes off the phone.

“And do you want to see her?”

Miller watches Bellamy careful, he watches as he thinks about lying. Denying that he wants to see her. He watches as his shoulders slump a tiny amount as he contemplates the message on the phone. Before Bellamy even speaks Miller knows what he’s going to say.

“Yeah, I want to see her.”

CHAPTER TWO

The Star and Garter claims to be the oldest pub in the area, it’s not a claim that anyone cares about – other than the owners who have it written in large letters on the mirror over the bar. The Star also has the dubious honour of being entirely neutral – owned by the Jordan family – it sits on the cross section of the Kane/Griffin town division. And as such has been used for all kinds discreet meetings over the years.

"I thought we said alone." Bellamy says, glancing over at Murphy who walked in with Clarke and is now standing by the front entrance.

"We did. This counts. I know you have Miller at the other door and I'm willing to bet a large part of my inheritance that Raven is listening-in some how." Clarke replies, sitting down in the booth opposite Bellamy.

"Hey Griffin!" She hears as Bellamy pulls out his phone with a conspiratorial grin.

"Raven, always a pleasure." Clarke chuckles.

"Yeah, right." Raven snorts down the line, "It's been a while." 

"Six years and change." Clarke confirms, looking at Bellamy.

"Whoever is doing your comms now, is way better than the last dude. He keeps kicking me off the security cam feed... I mean I'm doing the same to him, but it's definitely taking more effort than it used to."

Clarke laughs, "That's Monty. He's good."

"Security cam, really?" Bellamy asks wryly.

"It's not like you're not doing the same." Clarke counters.

"She's got you there, Blake." Raven's voice echoes with a laugh out of the phone.

"Ok, pull your guy off the feed and Raven will step down too. We're good with Miller and Murphy." Bellamy says.

"Done." Clarke nods at Murphy.

"Raven?" Bellamy asks after a minute.

"Yeah, her other dude is off and I'm leaving too. Try not to cause another family-war you two. Laters." Raven says disconnecting the call 

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven's words and feels a little thrill when she catches Bellamy doing the same. She shares a small smile with him.

"So, you called the meeting – what's up?"

The smile drops from Clarke’s face.

"That's it? Straight in, no small talk about the weather?" Clarke snarks.

"I'm sorry. Wow, this weather, so warm for September." He says droll.

"Funny." Clarke replies, dry. "You look good," she adds after a beat.

His hair is longer than it was back then, wilder and curling more at the edges but he does look good. He’s got a scruffy beard that she never would’ve thought to imagine but now can’t see him without. He's in a simple black shirt but Clarke knows from the way it fits him, and because she knows the Kane family, that it will have cost a small fortune. His skin, always darker than hers, is more tan than usual too.

"Italy must suit you." She smiles trying for civil.

"I think Italy suits everyone." 

"I wouldn't know."

"You're telling me you didn't pop over from Switzerland, they're basically next door."

"I was at a private boarding school that was a step away from a nunnery Bellamy. There wasn't a lot of popping anywhere."

"Right." He nods.

"Just one of the little quirks about what happened, we get found out and I get sent to an all-girls finishing school in Europe, while you get to carry on life as normal. Then when I get brought home and graciously allowed to go to an all-girls college a few hours away, you get to carry on life as normal with added Europe." She complains.

"Not that you're bitter of course." He smirks.

"Wouldn't you be?" She shrugs.

"Of course. I'd have burnt the world." 

"I caused some chaos." Clarke admits with a grin.

"I'll bet you did princess."

They both startle. Clarke can tell the nickname slipped out unthinkingly but it's been years since she heard him say that and she can't deny the effect it had.

Bellamy clears his throat, “so uh, why did you want to meet? I assume it wasn’t to reminisce about the good times.”

“Your sister invited me to her engagement party.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to know if you had a view on that.”

Bellamy looks at Clarke who is sitting stock still, her face impassive as she waits for his answer. She looks older than she did, of course, she’s not a teenager anymore but she still looks like the girl who’d grab his hand and ask how high when he said jump. And it’s distracting.

“Not really. It’ll all be for show as always.”

Clarke nods and tucks her hair behind her ear.

“So are you back for good or just for the party?”

“I’m back until the wedding,” He tells her, adding “but I’ll be going back and forth to Italy.”

“What about you?”

Clarke frowns.

“O said she saw you in an art gallery and last I knew your parents weren’t exactly big on art.”

“They’re patrons of the ballet, the opera and the national gallery.”

“Yes and Marcus is a patron at Moma but wouldn’t know modern art if it fell on him,” Bellamy smirks, “patronage means nothing. We both know that.”

“True. And to answer your unasked question it’s a gallery owned by a friend of my mom’s,” she pauses before adding, “It’s nothing to do with Griffin Enterprises.”

Bellamy nods as Clarke continues.

“They’re not thrilled about it but they want me home and I said I wasn’t ready to enter GE. I reckon I’ve got a year before they make me get involved or try and marry me off.” Clarke shrugs.

Her words are light but they both know the pain behind them. The truth is that in their families what you want doesn’t matter.

“And you? Are you going to be able to go back to living the life of an Italian playboy after the wedding?”

“Who said I was living like a playboy?” He grins.

“I took a guess.”

“Fair enough.” He laughs, before sobering, “but honestly I don’t know. Marcus is pushing for me to come home full time and take on my responsibilities. Although he may be less keen if he knows you’re back for good too.”

Clarke laughs and wonders if her parents are thinking the same thing.

“Do you…” she pauses and looks around at the wood-panelled upstairs room they’re having their catch up in.

And, just like six years ago Bellamy knows what she’s thinking.

“The Star is still safe. Still owned by the Jordan’s although their son runs it now and Raven swept it before we came in.”

Clarke smiles softly, “I assume Monty did the same.”

“I was going to say, do you still feel the same way about the family business as before?”

Bellamy doesn’t hesitate, “yep. Do you?”

“Of course. More so after my exile but it’s not the same for me and you know it. I’m the only heir it’s me or nothing.”

“It’s not exactly smooth sailing for me Clarke.”

“Really, because I’m pretty sure I was the one who was sent away while you got to continue being the family favourite.” She snaps.

“Oh yes, being under 24-hour watch is just the best way to live.”

They both glare at each other until Bellamy looks away, but it’s Clarke who breaks the silence.

She doesn’t know why she’s talking about this. The plan was ask about the engagement party and leave. But Clarke knows she should have known better, it was never light and breezy with them – they always talked about what mattered.

“You know what I never understood,” She says after a beat, “why they were so angry when they found out.”

Bellamy turns back to look at her, one brow raised, curious.

“I know, I know, sworn enemies. But it wasn’t always like that. I swear when I was a kid I used to hear them talking about uniting the families.”

“But that was back when there were three families not two. Then it would have been two uniting against one, now it’s just one on one.” Bellamy shrugs, “Damn Jaha.”

“True.” Clarke concedes, “Although I can’t imagine Wells wanting any part of it even before Theolonious went nuts and gave all his money to those light people.”

“Wells is definitely the best of us. You know he still sends me postcards, the last one was from French Polynesia.”

Clarke chuckles, “Makes sense. I got one from New Zealand not so long ago.”

“How is it he lost everything but still seems to be living his best life.”

“Because he doesn’t have to play the game anymore.”

“Careful, if the family hears you speaking like that you’ll be in trouble.” He says, dry.

Clarke rolls her eyes, “if the families knew we were meeting I’d be in trouble.”

They share a smile and Bellamy looks like he wants to say more but Murphy comes in.

“Clarke, it’s almost half past. We have to go if we want to get back before your parents.”

“Right.” She nods at him and stands. “Thanks for meeting me Bellamy.”

“Anytime,” he smirks as he stands with her. “What are you going to do about O’s party?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke sighs, fiddling with her bag not looking at him.

“You should come.”

“Really?” Clarke looks up.

“Yeah, this town’s been too quiet for too long. Besides don’t you think we’ve been punished enough.”

“I’ll think about it.” She shrugs, turning to Murphy, “come on.”

“Blake.” Murphy nods at Bellamy who nods back curtly.

The door behind them opens and all three of them turn to face the door instantly alert, Murphy with his hand on his gun.

“Relax, it’s only me.” Miller says coming into the room. Turning to Bellamy he says, “Raven called, apparently Kane’s meeting was cancelled, we need to get you out of here.”

“We were done anyway.” Bellamy says, turning towards Miller.

“Miller.” Clarke nods.

“Griffin.” He nods back.

Clarke and Murphy are almost at the door when Bellamy calls back from the other side of the room, “You know it was never about us, not really.”

Clarke stops and turns back to him, “I know,” she says softly, “it was about power.”

“It’s always about power.” He acknowledges. “Good to have you back Griffin.”

Bellamy and Miller walk out the back of the bar and Clarke and Murphy take the front.

“All good? Curiosity satisfied.” Murphy asks as he opens the car door for Clarke.

“Thanks for being here John.” Clarke replies getting into the car.

Murphy sighs as he heads to the drivers side. For any casual observer there was nothing to see in the Star and Garter tonight but Murphy knows by the whisper of a smile that Clarke keeps trying to hide that it was the start of everything, again, and he’s not sure if he can bear to see it all fall apart again.

*

Bellamy doesn’t actually live at the Kane house, although he still spends a lot of time there. But he in fact lives across town in an apartment he shares with Raven and Miller. He could afford his own place, hell Kane could afford the whole building if he wanted but when Bellamy said he wanted to live alone, the concession was that Miller would live there too. The addition of Raven was, so they “don’t end up like the odd couple,” her words, not his.

Most of the time he doesn’t mind the arrangement. The loft is big enough that they all have their own space and besides Raven and Miller usually keep different hours to him. But tonight he wants to be alone and knows that won’t be an option.

After the meeting with Clarke, Miller dropped him straight to Kane’s house for dinner with his sister and Kane. And now he’s on his way back home but he’s being driven by another one of Kane’s team, a terrifying brunette called Echo. He thought about sleeping with her once, after the whole Clarke thing was over, but he could never quite bring himself to see her as an ally and not just one of the Kane employees.

“You don’t need to see me up, I’m good from here.” Bellamy tells Echo as she pulls into the parking lot of his building.

She looks like she wants to protest but he doesn’t give her chance. Instead he gets out and shuts the door with a firm goodnight before walking to the elevator and hitting PH.

The benefit of the penthouse is that they don’t share the elevator. Which means Bellamy has a few minutes entirely alone. He’d thought he was ready to be around Clarke again, thought that the six years had made him older and wiser. That she wouldn’t be able to get under his skin in the same way. But he knows he was wrong. Only a few minutes of being around her and it was like it always had been – honesty. She was one of the only people in his life that was always straightforward with him. He’d forgotten how much he missed it. Well, not forgotten but pushed the memory away.

The downside of the penthouse elevator is that if you’re in the apartment you know it’s being used. Which is why Bellamy isn’t surprised when the doors open and Raven is standing in front of the doors as they open, a glass of single malt in her hand and a finger on her lips.

Bellamy rolls his eyes but accepts the drink and follows her out to the balcony. It’s large and looks across the city, it’s also the only place that Raven trusts they can speak freely.

The air is still warm as Bellamy steps out onto the balcony.

“Miller.” He nods without a hint of surprise.

“I’d like to point out, and not for the first time, that you set up the comms Reyes, so surely all this,” Miller breaks his speech to wave around at the large balcony they’re all sitting on, “is redundant.”

“Clarke’s guy was good.” Raven shrugs, “give me a couple of days to make sure we’re all secure and you can chat shit back inside as usual.”

“He was that good?” Bellamy asks.

“He really was.” Raven confirms.

Bellamy knows they want to talk about Clarke, but he doesn’t. Well that’s not true, it’s all he wants to talk about and he never wants to mention her name again. He thought he’d grown past this feeling.

“Well?” Raven begins.

“Well what?” Bellamy replies.

He’s not looking at Miller or Raven, instead focusing on the city lights below them and how from up here it all looks so small. But even though he’s not looking at them he still knows them both well enough to know they’re rolling his eyes at his obstinacy.

“Bellamy, do you really want to stall over this?” Raven says taking a sip of her own drink.

“What do you want to know?” He sighs, “Miller heard everything anyway.”

“Indeed I did. And I’ve told her what I heard but that’s not what she wants.”

“She is the cat’s mother thank you Nathan.”

Miller laughs and even Bellamy cracks a small smile.

“How did she look?”

“Like Clarke.” Bellamy shrugs. He’s not expecting the kick to his chair that Raven delivers but he probably should have been.

“The same. Older, obviously, but good. She looked like Clarke. Ready to fight the world if you asked her to.”

Raven laughs.

“Will she come to the engagement party?” Miller asks.

“No clue.” Bellamy replies lightly.

“But you want her to?” Raven asks shrewdly.

Bellamy is silent for a long time but they know he’s not ignoring them, instead he’s considering the question.

“Honestly, yes. But I know the answer should be no.”

“It’s normal to want to see her,” Raven says kindly, “hell, I want to see her and I didn’t have the whole fucked-up star-crossed thing going on with her.”

Bellamy huffs out a breath that is close to a laugh.

“Will Kane lose his shit if she comes to the party?” Miller asks.

“Could go either way.” Raven offers.

“The invitation was offered in good faith to the Griffin’s but I’m not sure he knew Clarke was back in town. And even if he did I doubt he thinks she’ll come.” Bellamy adds.

“If she doesn’t come to the party do you want to see her again?” Raven asks.

The silence stretches after her question and this time they know he’s stalling.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He says eventually.

There’s nothing to say to that, they all understand. They talk lightly about other things, Miller telling Raven that Octavia threatened to get a lime green suit made for Bellamy and burn all his other ones if he didn’t just pick a damn fabric when they were at the tailors earlier in the day.

Bellamy laughs along at the story but they all know his heart is not in it. It’s no surprise when he puts his empty glass down and stands.

“I’m going to bed, it’s been a day.” He says.

“Sure thing. Don’t forget your meeting moved to tomorrow morning and Octavia’s rehearsal dinner is at Indra’s not Kane’s on Friday.” Miller tells him.

“Why the fuck do we have to have a dinner to rehearse a party,” Bellamy grouches.

“Take it up with your sister, I’m just the messenger.” Miller replies holding his hands up in surrender.

“Night Blake, sorry about your life!” Raven trills as Bellamy opens the screen doors and heads inside.

Raven and Miller sit in silence until they’re sure he’s in his room.

“You said, they talked.” Raven whirls on Miller accusingly.

“They did.”

“Yeah but you didn’t say it was a talk.” She emphasises talk.

“I didn’t know it was. You know what he’s like.” Miller defends, “I told you everything they talked about. Old times, the party and the families.”

“But what was the tone? Sad? Resigned? Flirty? Angry?” Raven demands.

“All of the above.” Miller huffs, when Raven glowers at him, he adds, “you remember what those two were like. Even when they’re saying something they’re not really saying it.”

“Do you think she’ll come to the party?” Raven asks eventually.

“I don’t know. But even if she doesn’t, as long as she’s back in town I don’t think this is over.”

“Yeah,” Raven sighs, “I was thinking the same thing.”

*

When Clarke was little she was fascinated by the fresco of Jesus on the cross that hung behind the altar at St Stephens. It wasn’t so much the image of the crucifixion – she’d already learnt about that in Sunday School – but it was the checkerboard pattern behind the cross that she would spend hours studying, trying to count all the squares without getting caught.

Clarke is older and wiser now and knows how to behave in church for two hours but today she can’t help counting the squares again. There’s something soothing about the pattern and the order of it. And her mind needs soothing. Ever since she saw Bellamy four days ago she hasn’t been able to quiet her thoughts.

It’s not just him, although those dark eyes and freckles do keep invading her brain. It reinforced that she’s really back. And it’s the idea of seeing everyone again and really returning to that world that she can’t push out of her mind.

Later back at the house she finds her parents in the lounge. She’s hardly seen them in the last few days, both of them working late and fielding private calls.

“Hey Clarke,” Jake smiles looking up from the paper, Abby is sitting next to him with her feet tucked softly under his legs.

Clarke thinks how peaceful and relaxed they look, with her mother’s favourite Mozart concertos playing softly in the background. She sinks down into the soft grey velvet armchair across from her parents.

“Family, four letters, third letter A.” Abby says to Jake and Clarke.

“Clan.” Clarke answers.

“Of course. It’s always the simple ones. Like the time I couldn’t remember ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow’.” Abby huffs, writing down Clarke’s answer on the page.

“Mom, Dad, I’ve decided I’m not going to go to Octavia’s engagement party.”

“Ok,” Jake says cautiously.

“I’ll send a note to express my regrets.” Clarke adds.

Abby nods her approval, “do you want Style?” she asks holding out the paper to Clarke.

“Thanks mom.” Clarke smiles taking the paper, “Also-”

“I had a feeling there was more.” Jake sighs, folding his paper down and concentrating on Clarke.

“I might not be going to this event but I can’t avoid the Kane’s forever.” Clarke says ignoring her father. “Arcadia’s not that big.” She says referring to the suburb they live in, “and even if I go into the city the Kane family has holdings there too.”

“No one is saying you can’t go to Kane owned places Clarke, but somehow I don’t think this is about Kane.” Jake says.

“I’m an adult. I can’t avoid the family forever.”

“No one is asking you to Clarke,” Abby says evenly, “but if this is about dating Bellamy Blake you know we won’t approve that.”

“It’s not.” Clarke huffs, “but I don’t see why it couldn’t be. You dated Marcus when you were younger.”

“That’s not the same.” Abby argues.

“And he was your best friend, dad.”

“He was, but times were different then Clarke. And as your mother said, it’s not the same.”

“You can’t stop me seeing them.” Clarke grouches like a child.

“No we can’t. But I can remind you that you told us we couldn’t treat you like a child, which means you don’t get to behave like one. We have our reasons for not approving of you and Bellamy, which we told you at the time.”

“I’m not getting back with Bellamy.” Clarke interrupts.

“Regardless, you lied to us back then and broke our trust.” Jake says, waiting a beat to make sure Clarke’s looking at him to add, “Multiple times.”

“And I was punished for it.”

“If you call a world class education punishment, then yes, I suppose you were.” Abby replies, dry.

Jake and Abby share a look and Jake speaks.

“We cannot stop you from being friends with the Kane’s or the Blake boy. As you have told us multiple times, you’re an adult who is free to do as she pleases.” He says evenly, “However, there are many eyes on our family and theirs. People who would like a piece of the business and security we’ve created. People who would like to see us fail.”

“Is something going on?” Clarke asks, thinking of the late nights her parents have been working.

“No, nothing for you to be concerned over.” Abby assures her. “I think what your father is trying to say is that actions, yours, his, all of ours, have consequences and you would do well to remember that, whatever you decide.”

Clarke feels less sure of anything than she did when she walked in the room but she knows a “this is final” speech from her mother so doesn’t push it.

“I don’t feel like cooking, shall we order in?” Abby says lightly. “I’m going to see if the boys are around.”

“Clarke,” Jake says when Abby has left the room, “we love you and want what’s best for you. So please trust us when we say getting mixed up with that family is not it.”

Clarke is saved from a response by Murphy and Monty.

“I vote for pizza.” Murphy is saying as he comes into the room.

“You always want pizza, lets be more adventurous. What about Ethiopian or Lebanese.” Monty argues.

“I want Thai.” Clarke interjects, trying to lighten the mood.

“You always want Thai.” Murphy snarks flopping on the arm of the chair next to Clarke, “Give me that. I want to look at houses I can’t afford.” He takes the paper from Clarke.

“You ok?” Monty mutters quietly coming to sit on the other side of Clarke.

She nods and pats his leg. Clarke listens as they argue about food and interjects when it seems right as the evening wears on but she can’t help wishing she had that fresco to stare at and quiet her mind again. The talk with her parents was meant to confirm her decision, not leave her more confused.

*

“Who died?” Raven asks jerking her thumb to the flowers on the table as she makes her way to the refrigerator. She got caught up in an issue on one of the construction sites and hasn’t eaten since breakfast, even though it’s almost dark now.

She looks over to Octavia for an answer. The pretty brunette barely spares her a glance, too distracted by a giant binder in front of her, which Raven recognised as the wedding binder of doom (trademark Miller).

“Clarke.”

Raven stops short at Octavia’s words and whirls round to stare at the other woman.

“I mean not dead” Octavia continues obliviously, “they’re from Clarke. An apology for not being able to attend the party on Friday.”

“Jesus Octavia.” Raven curses, holding her hand to her chest, “you almost gave me a heart-attack.”

Octavia looks up at the tone in Raven’s words.

“Sorry!” She says sheepishly.

“No harm no foul.” Raven waves get away, “I mean now that my heart is beating again.”

Octavia snorts.

“Seriously I was having visions of having to tell your brother.” Raven grimaces.

Octavia returns Raven’s scowl at the thought.

“Tell me what?” Bellamy asks.

“Jeez Bell!” Octavia jumps. “Where did you come from?”

“The study,” he frowns, motioning to the left of the kitchen in the direction he’d come from “had a meeting with Marcus. And tell me what?”

“That no matter how hot you are it’s creepy to eavesdrop in doorways.” Raven snarks, getting the stuff out of the fridge for a sandwich.

“Funny,” he comes in from the doorway and moves towards the flowers.

Raven and Octavia watch warily as Bellamy makes his way to the table to sit next to Octavia and as a result walks by the flowers, “bit much aren’t they.”

“They’re from Clarke,” Octavia rushes out, “to say ‘sorry she can’t make the party but she sends her best’”

“Oh. Right.” He falters for a moment, just small enough that you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for a reaction - which Raven and Octavia were.

“That reminds me, I have to go to Italy the morning after the party, so I can’t stay too late.”

“Lame.” Octavia whines.

“Indeed. My life is a laugh a minute right now.” He deadpans, standing up and dropping a kiss on his sisters head, “I’ll still be there for the bit that counts though.”

“Where are you off to?” Raven asks, wiping the mayonnaise knife on the edge of her bread.

“I have to go and see the McCreary’s.” He tells her, at Raven’s grimace, he adds “I know. Kane wants an update on the Eden site by the way”

“Truly spreading the joy today aren’t you Blake,” Raven huffs at him from around her sandwich.

“I live to serve,” he grins at her before leaving the room.

*

RANDOM SCENES

“I’m thinking The Greatest Showman.”

Clarke swivels on her knees to look back at Monty who is lounging on the couch.

“Seriously? I didn’t take you for a musicals man.” She frowns, still pointing the remote at the tv where they are trying to decide on a film.

“I’m not really, but everyone says it’s good.” He shrugs, “plus Hugh Jackman. Who doesn’t like Wolverine.”

“Fair.” Clarke nods, “I’ll see if we can find it.”

Clarke turns back to the Tv and continues scrolling.

“Sure you can’t be tempted by that shitty British show Love Island?” She grins back at him.

“We said a movie, Clarke.”

“Hey there you are.” Murphy says coming into the room. He’s holding his mobile.

“It’s your mom.” He tells Clarke, “don’t shoot the messenger,” he adds handing the phone over.

“Hello?” Clarke frowns. “She’s not there.” She tells Murphy.

“Take it off mute, dummy.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at him but hits the mute button, “mom?”

“Oh darling, I’m glad I caught you.” Abby says, “your father and I are stuck at work and won’t be able to make the Blake Woods engagement party. We need you to go on our behalf.”

“What?” Clarke splutters.

“We need someone from the family to go, John will accompany you.” Abby continues.

Clarke looks up at Murphy, who looks as thrilled as she feels.

“But I thought you didn’t-“ Clarke starts.

“Sweetheart, I don’t have time for arguments. I think your blue dress is back from the cleaners. Or the black one if you must but make sure to wear the diamonds your father got you for your 21st. It is a celebration after all.”

“I-“ Clarke tries.

“Roan will be driving you, then coming to collect us to drop us at the ballet. Then he’ll pick you up from the party. Do not go anywhere without him.”

Clarke doesn’t speak, waiting for her mom to continue as she has been this whole conversation.

“Clarke, is that clear?” Abby says sharply.

“Yes mom.” Clarke sighs.

“Excellent. Now go get ready and Clarke,”

“Yes mom?”

“Send our regards and if anyone asks we had to be at the ballet earlier to meet the dancers.”

Clarke doesn’t even blink at the blatant lie, there’s no point in arguing.

“Yes mom.”

“Thank you darling. Goodbye.” Abby hangs up.

Clarke passes the phone back to Murphy more viciously than is necessary.

“I’m not thrilled about it either Griffin.”

“Thrilled about what?” Monty asks having heard only Clarke’s mostly monosyllabic side of the conversation.

“Movie’s gonna have to wait.” She tells Monty as she clambers off the floor, “duty calls.”

Clarke doesn’t wear either of the dresses her mom pre-approved. Instead she picks a navy jumpsuit, with a square neck that highlights her cleavage and has a nipped in waist. She wears it with a simple strand of pearls. As rebellions go it’s a small one, but, Clarke felt, it was important to get the wins where you could.

“Woah” Murphy whistles as she came down the stairs, “dressed to impress I see.”

“Shut up Murphy.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Roan’s outside, come on.”

Clarke follows Murphy out to the driveway, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

“Get in.” Roan barks, holding the car door open for Clarke.

“Where’s the fire?” Murphy snarks.

“Just get in the damn car.”

Murphy rolls his eyes at Clarke as he gets in the town car.

“What’s with him?” Clarke mutters quietly.

“He’s always a dick.” Murphy shrugs, getting his phone out of the pocket of his tuxedo. Working for the Griffin’s provided more opportunity for formal wear than Murphy ever expected.

Clarke doesn’t have a response to that, it’s not technically untrue. Instead of replying she stares out of the window and tries not to think about what she’s heading into.

She doesn’t mind doing things for her family, it’s part of the role. But this is different. It’s seeing the Blake’s when she wasn’t expecting it. She’s not worried about everyone else, very few people outside of the families knew what had gone on between Bellamy and Clarke - one perk of the family businesses is discretion. But she doesn’t want to stir up any old feelings, seeing Bellamy the other day we fine because it was on her terms, this is something else.

“I can hear you stressing.” Murphy huffs.

“I didn’t say anything.” Clarke snaps.

“You are radiating stress and it’s stressing me out. Just relax. We’ll go, be polite, do the rounds then leave.”

“You don’t leave until I get there, understood?” Roan says over his shoulder glancing at them in the mirror.

“You don’t need to pick us up.” Clarke tries, she really doesn’t want to be stuck at the part.

“It’s non-negotiable.” Roan snaps.

Clarke looks at Murphy but he just shrugs.

Emerson Hall, the venue for the party, was a hotel in the 20s and has since been refurbished with all its original features. It’s a stunning building that XXXX

Roan opens the door for Clarke and she slides out, smoothing her hair nervously.

“Stop it, you look fine.”

“Thanks Murphy, just what every woman wants to hear.” Clarke snarks, but it does calm her.

Clarke starts to make her way in but pauses as Roan grabs Murphy by the arm and says something in his ear.

“What was that?” Clarke asks.

“Nothing he’s just being Roan.” Murphy deflects.

Clarke turns and raises her brow at him, not believing his nonchalance for a moment.

Murphy ignores her look and holds out his arm, “Shall we?”

“What was that about?” Clarke huffs, turning to face him.

“Work stuff, don’t worry about it.” Murphy shrugs and holds his arm out again. When she pauses he adds, “the sooner we do this, the sooner we leave.”

......

He’s saved from searching for a response by Miller’s phone.

“Miller.” He answers.

Bellamy and Raven can’t hear the other side of the conversation but watch Miller anyway.

“It’s been cleared and checked. With all the usual protocols?”

There’s a beat.

“Send it up.” He hangs up.

“What was that about? Raven asks.

“Delivery apparently. A gift for Bellamy. Hand delivered to the concierge.” Miller says getting up and heading inside to open the door.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Raven says standing and going into the kitchen where her laptop is charging.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asks following her.

“Checking the feeds from earlier. You know this whole place is covered with cameras.”

Miller comes back in holding a long blue box and he’s smirking.

“It’s safe.”

“How do you know?” Raven asks not looking up from her screen.

“Look.” Miller says pointing to the ribbon around the box.

The ribbon is patterned with interlocking S shapes. To the naked eye it looks like a pretty pattern but all three of them know better, they’ve seen the pattern before and know it’s meant to represent serpents.

“Fuck.” Bellamy whispers under his breath taking the box from Miller.

“Wait,” Raven says before he has chance to open it, “I just want to check.”

She taps a few keys enhancing frames of the still image she’s grabbed from earlier. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She laughs, “Looks like our courier is wearing Versace.”

She points to the screen where the medusa head is visible on the back of the courier’s jacket as he turns away from reception after delivering the parcel.

“Or a knock off at least. Don’t know many couriers with the budget for Versace.” Miller says lightly and tapping his ear slightly.

He’s reminding them to be careful what they say, because they all know the truth. Ancient Greek mythology, the snake ribbon – it’s practically play-by-play of six years ago.

Bellamy opens up the box and inside is a bottle of single malt from a very small, very rare, Scottish distiller he knows and loves. There’s a simple brown label around the neck of the bottle with an image of medusa on the front. He flips it over and reads the small note.

“You still wear a suit well. Thank you for a lovely party,” He reads aloud, but because he knows who this is from, he slips his finger between the fold of the label and opens it out, there are just seven words but it's enough – "What if we met power with power"

The three of them don’t really have anything to say because it’s obvious who it’s fromt.

He pulls the label from around the bottle and hands it to Miller.

“The usual?” Miller asks. Which means, do you want me to get rid of this for you so we – and they – can deny all knowledge if ever found out.

“Yes please.” Bellamy replies.

Raven opens her mouth to speak but Bellamy cuts her off, “tomorrow, please. I’m tired.”

“Sure thing. Night Blake.”

He goes to his room fully aware that they’ll talk about him once he’s gone but he doesn’t care. He’s exhausted but also a little exhilarated. It’s a feeling he mostly associates with the beginning of everything with Clarke from years ago. He lies there and thinks about the question Raven asked earlier that he hadn’t answered, would he want to see Clarke again? And he knows that he didn’t answer not because he didn’t know but because he did. Of course he would. The second he saw her tonight, hell, when he saw her last week, he remembered why they’d risked everything to be together in the first place.

He doesn’t know if she feels the same and is mildly terrified about what fighting power with power means to Clarke but he knows one thing for sure. If she’s back in town, he wants her back in his life.


	12. The Commanders House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could remember the inspiration for this but I don't. Just that it was a heatwave when I started writing it, which is why the first part sounds like an ode to summer.

The vibrations of her phone don’t cut through her alcohol-laden sleep at first. That is why she drinks, so things don’t get through. But it’s persistent. So persistent it invades her sleep and she dreams of chainsaws and fallen trees. Eventually it’s persistent enough to fall from the bedside table to the floor and that’s what wakes her. The sharp crack as it hits the wooden floor.

She blinks open her eyes and blearily reaches for her phone grappling along the floor until she finds it. The screen is cracked, the caller name not visible but she manages to swipe and answer.

“Hello?” She croaks, her voice raspy from another late night.

“Fucking finally.” The woman on the other end snaps, “Clarke?”

“Yeah?” She says cautiously the voice tingling something familiar in the back of her mind.

“Clarke Griffin?”

It’s the surname that does it. The harsh first syllable is too familiar. Plus there are only a handful of people with this number.

Clarke can’t be accused of being sociable.

“Raven?” She breathes.

“Obviously.”

“Why are you calling? You shouldn’t be calling!”

“The how’s and why’s can wait,” Raven tells her before carrying on, “you need to come back to Mount Weather.”

“Are you insane!?” Clarke sits up, her head protesting at the movement but it doesn’t register because all she can think about is Mount Weather, “I am not coming I back, never coming back and you know that.”

“I do but, Clarke, it’s Wells”

It’s not the only thing Raven could have said, but it’s close.

After everything that happened ten years ago he was the one she worried most for. The softest of all of them in some ways, she’d feared leaving him behind even when it was clear she couldn’t stay.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s missing. It’s been a couple of days,” Raven sighs, “at first we thought it was nothing but…”

“But?” Clarke snaps.

“I don’t want to do this over the phone. You need to come back.” Raven snaps back, the frustration in her tone matching Clarke’s.

“That’s ridiculous. You know I’m not coming back, I said I never would. I can’t.” Clarke huffs.

But even as she says it, even though she truly means it, the other part of her brain is already making the calculations of how long it would take to get back and if she can afford it. And the part of her heart that never truly left Mount Weather is beating wildly.

“I’m really worried Clarke. He was spending a lot of time up at the House before he disappeared.” Raven sighs softly and Clarke can hear the fear in her erstwhile friend’s voice.

She doesn’t need to ask what house, she knows.

Clarke is silent and Raven doesn’t push it. She rubs her eyes tiredly, and sighs, “I’ll let you know when I’m in town,” before hanging up.

Clarke stands and reaches under the bed for the old leather holdall that was once her dad’s. As she grabs some clothes, phone charger, the essentials for a couple of days she looks around the barren studio she pretends is home. She knows that it looks depressing, bare walls and tired furniture but it was always easier to live this way, transient, not really there. She wasn’t really ever there. Seattle was as different to Mount Weather as she could get and as far away from New York as she could manage, that’s the only reason she’s stayed drinking too much and working shitty dead ends jobs.

Clarke opens her laptop and looks up flights. There’s one leaving in four hours. It’s long, expensive and she has to do a fucking stop in Charlotte, NC, but it will get her back by tonight. And, if it is bad enough for Raven to call, if she really is that worried about Wells, then Clarke needs to be there now.

Clarke has tried not to think about Mount Weather for ten years. She thinks of that place, and that summer, as the start of everything that went wrong for her. But it is also a place of some of the best memories of her life. She thinks she’s become pretty good at ignoring it over the years, forgetting all of the bits she wants to forget, but sitting on a too cold plastic chair, waiting for her connecting flight in the airport she wonders if she was as successful as she thought, or if she was just good at running. Because now, even hearing a similar twang of accent, it’s like she’s sixteen again. Complaining about having to spend the summer in some nothing town on the edge of the Smoky Mountains instead of in the Hamptons like always. If she’d known at the start of that summer what would happen would she have fought harder to stay in New York? Would she have begged to be allowed to stay with Maya’s family? She’s not sure. It would have been easier, sure. Her life would certainly have been better. But despite all the shit, that summer had some standout moments that Clarke can’t bring herself to give up.

Her flight is called and Clarke stands and walks to the gate. An hour’s flight, a two-hour drive and she’ll be back in Mount Weather.

Clarke gets the cheapest car she can hire – a Chevy Spark that looks as happy to be in Tennessee as she is – and plugs in her phone. Mount Weather is a nothing town with one high street and less than 800 people, it didn’t appear on road signs until you were basically on top of it and it had been so long she couldn’t quite be sure where she was going. Thank god for google. Ten years ago she remembered her parents following printed out instructions from Thelonious and arguing the whole way. She shakes her head to clear it and starts the car, thankful when the icy blast of air fills the tiny space. It might only be early June but already the air was thick and soupy and she knew with bitter experience it would only get worse as the summer continued.

*

She missed the turning twice before she actually found it, the dirt road practically hidden between trees. Still, after all this time it made her laugh that a tiny track that could barely fit two cars led to the two biggest houses in town. She carried on, ignoring the turn off to the Commanders House signified by the red post box that was miraculously still standing. She kept going until the Chancellors House started to come into view. Even after ten years away, after everything that happened that summer, she couldn’t help the little jolt of joy that spiked in her veins as she saw the house. It still reminded her of a fairytale castle, with its turret on the left of the building and winding porch. Her mother had described it as a “neo-gothic monstrosity typical of Thelonious’s delusions of grandeur” Clarke had been too young then to understand just how much of an insult it was. To her the house just seemed magical.

She parks up around the side, where they always parked. There’s a silver car she doesn’t recognise parked in front of the old barn-like structure that always functioned as a garage. She can see from here that it doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while, a fine layer of dust wrapping the whole vehicle. Clarke switches off the engine and grabs the keys. She opens the door and is immediately hit by a wall of heat, the Tennessee humidity greeting her with its oppressive weight. She slams the door behind her and makes her way towards the house. She hadn’t called ahead, but assumes Thelonious will let her stay. If not there’s the motel on the highway – she’s stayed in worse places.

The dust in the yard kicks up around her as she walks to the front door and Clarke can’t help remembering how the dust swirled up that last night, when they left. The night had been so still that the dust had hung in the air like fog, clinging to the smoky smell that surrounded them all. She shakes her head. It’s not 10 years ago and she needs to stop thinking about it. She’s here, now, for Wells and that’s it.

“Hello?” She calls, opening the porch screen and knocking on the door. She knocks louder but there’s no sound of movement from the house. Clarke tries the door handle but it’s locked, as she knew it would be. She walks around the porch towards the back of the house, automatically stepping over the creaky board in the corner that she’d forgotten she still remembered. She peers in the windows as she walks around the house and sees that it’s empty. No sign of anyone inside. She knocks again on the back door, but knows now that no one is in. Clarke peers through the pane of glass in the back door, the kitchen looks tidy but neglected as if no one has been there for a long time.

Clarke weighs up her options. She could head into town and find Raven; go to the motel out on the highway; wait for Thelonious or hope the spare key is still under the flowerpot and let herself in. She’s always been more of an ‘ask for forgiveness rather than permission’ type of girl, so she starts towards the large terracotta pot in the corner. She’s just pushed it to one side and is about to grab the key when she hears a car pull up the drive.

She schools her face into her best, Clarke Griffin the heiress look, and makes her way around the front of the house stopping short when she sees a police car.

“You’re not Thelonious.” She grins, when Nathan Miller gets out of the cruiser.

“Neither are you.” He shoots back.

“You got me officer.” She smirks.

“I should’ve fucking known.” He sighs, “When I got a call to say someone had seen a car out here, I should’ve fucking known that it’d be you causing trouble.” He closes the car door and walks towards her.

“I haven’t technically done anything yet,” Clarke smiles, walking to meet him.

“As always with you, it’s the yet that worries me.”

Clarke grins and steps into Miller’s outstretched arms.

“Been a while Griffin.” He smiles pulling back from the hug to look at her.

“I’ll say. You’re a cop now. Come a long way from the boy who shoplifted from Byrne’s market.”

“Not shoplifting, appropriating.” He smiles cheekily, before sobering, “and ten years is a long time. We’re not kids anymore.”

“No, we’re not.” Clarke agrees.

There’s a short pause where Clarke can feel Miller staring at her, sizing her up. He’s always been good at seeing what is really going on, she guesses it makes sense that he followed his dad into the force.

“You’re here about Wells.” He says eventually. It’s not a question but Clarke answers anyway.

“Yeah. Raven called. Are you the investigating officer?”

Miller nods.

“I’m the only officer. Mount Weather is still a one horse kinda town.” He shrugs.

“I was going to ask Thelonious what was going on first but as you’re here...” she trails off.

“God, you really have been gone a long time.”

Clarke frowns at him and Miller continues.

“Thelonious has been gone for about a year. Joined some cult and moved out.”

“What?” Clarke exclaims.

“Come on it’s hot as all hell out here. Let’s sit in the shade.”

They move to the porch and sit down on the two Adirondack chairs that are older than they are.

“What on earth is going on?” Clarke asks when they sit.

Miller sighs, rolling his shoulders and leaning his head back briefly before he starts. She watches him. He looks older, obviously, the patchy stubble now a neat beard but his hair is still cropped short. If it weren’t for the uniform she’d think he hadn’t changed a bit.

“About a year ago, Wells started spending more and more time at the Commander’s House.”

“What? Why?” Clarke interrupts.

“Let me explain first and then we can do questions.”

Clarke nods and sits on her hands to stop from fidgeting.

“He was spending a lot of time with Gaia, Indra’s daughter.” Miller pauses, then adds, “and Octavia.”

“Blake?” Clarke asks instinctively.

“How many Octavia’s do you think we have out here.” Miller rolls his eyes.

She deserves that she thinks, but hearing that name again was a soft blow. Instantly bringing to mind another Blake. One with freckles and wild curly hair. One she hasn’t seen for ten years but would recognise in the dark.

She doesn’t say that though. Instead she says, “of course. Sorry. Why was Octavia at the Commanders House?”

Miller pauses briefly, “she lives there now. Has done for a few years.”

“Fuck.” Clarke sighs.

“Yeah. It’s been hard, he took it badly.”

Miller doesn’t need to explain who he is. Clarke knows. Just as Miller knew she would. Ten years is a long time and no time at all.

“It was just before Wells started spending time there that Thelonious left. I’ve always wondered if the two things were connected but Wells would never talk about it. Just said his dad had found his calling or some bullshit.”

Clarke frowns but doesn’t say anything, Miller has found his stride now and she doesn’t want to interrupt.

“We still saw Wells, but less. He’d come into town, still hung out with Raven. But things were strained. He wouldn’t explain why he was spending so much time there. Wouldn’t tell Bellamy anything about his sister. It was hard.”

Clarke had known Bellamy would be mentioned at some point but hearing his name still feels like a punch to the gut. She doesn’t think she’s obvious but Miller glances over at her as he speaks, so maybe she was. Or maybe he just remembers that summer too.

“But we carried on, because that’s what you do. Then about a month ago Raven told me that she was worried about Wells. That he was spending too much time at the Commanders House. And that she’d heard rumours of girls disappearing, again.”

Clarke sits up straighter at that, because that’s how it had started back then too.

“And just like when we were kids, no one would talk about it.” Miller says, answering the question that Clarke hadn’t even asked.

“Then about a week ago, Wells was meant to meet us in town for drinks. We use to do it once a month, no matter what. And he didn’t show.”

“I didn’t think much of it but Raven was worried, said it wasn’t like him.” Miller sighs, before adding, “which is true.”

He scrubs his hand over his face tiredly before continuing, “so we called him. All of us, but no response. Eventually after a couple of days Raven drove out here and all of his stuff was gone. He’s vanished.”

“Are you looking for him?” Clarke demands.

“Of course, but he’s an adult and there’s very little I can do.”

“What do Gaia and Octavia say?”

“That’s the thing, Gaia’s gone too and Octavia won’t say a word.”

“So the thinking is that Gaia and Wells have run away?” Clarke asks sceptically.

When Miller nods, she shakes her head angrily before speaking, “It’s the same as the girls.”

“I know. We always knew it was fucked up, my dad was always suspicious of that place, but no one has ever been able to prove anything, they were all over 18 and so are Wells and Gaia.”

“But you’re worried?” Clarke asks, searching his face.

“Yeah, I am. But there’s not much I can do in an official capacity. If something bad has happened, no one is talking and I can see no signs of foul play…” He trails off.

“It’s Wells, he wouldn’t be involved in anything shady.” Clarke says. She might not have spoken to her old friend much or seen him in years, but she knows his heart and she knows he is a good guy.

“I know.”

Clarke is silent, thinking about Wells, the last time she’d seen him was on the very porch where she’s now sitting. They’d kept in touch sporadically but it wasn’t the same. She looks over to the direction she knows the Commanders House is, she can’t see it through the woods but can picture it in her mind. See the girls laughing out front, the fear behind their eyes.

“Wells wouldn’t have gone without a word, he’s not careless like that, he’s not…” She trails off.

“He’s not you?” Miller finishes softly, “You said goodbye Clarke.”

“Not to everyone.” She mutters quietly.

“It was out of your control. We all knew that.” Miller says kindly, he reaches over to squeeze her arm and adds, “He knows that.”

Clarke shrugs. She’s spent ten years running from it and an afternoon back in town and it’s already all coming back up. She’s here for Wells, that’s it. She needs to focus on him.

“I’m going to find out what happened.” She says fiercely.

“Thought you might say that.” Miller admits, a small smile playing on his face.

“You’re not going to try and stop me?” She asks.

“Would you listen?”

Clarke grins.

“Thought not.” He shrugs, “Just be careful. You know what this town is like.”

Clarke nods as Miller stands up.

“I’ve got to get back to work but you should come into town later. We’re all grabbing drinks, I know Raven wants to see you.”

“I don’t know.” Clarke hesitates, standing and walking towards his patrol car with him.

“Look, we generally meet up around eight-ish at the Dropship. It’s casual but everyone usually shows for one or two.”

“Everyone?”

“You can’t avoid him forever, it’s a small town.”

“I wasn’t…. I’m not.” Clarke dithers, before settling on, “It’s been a long day.”

“Sure.” Miller replies dry.

“I’ll try.”

“It’s been a long time Clarke, it will be ok.”

“I said I’d try Nathan.” She grumbles.

“That’s all I ask.” He grins.

Clarke rolls her eyes but smiles and throws Miller a little wave as he backs up and drives away.

She heads back to her car and grabs her bag. She only has a small holdall, she wasn’t packing for a long stay. She doesn’t want to be in Mount Weather any longer than she needs to be.

Clarke goes to the back porch, retrieves the key and lets herself into the empty house.

The air is still and there’s a fine layer of dust coating the surfaces but other than that it’s clean. Someone, Wells she guesses, was taking care of it.

Clarke walks through the kitchen, running her fingertips over the old wooden table she’d always loved. Her fingers leave trails in the dust but she doesn’t notice. She’s remembering another time, when this kitchen was filled with the sounds of the adults laughing and catching up, of clinking glasses and bottles opening and the smell of meat frying.

If Clarke closes her eyes she can see them all. Her mother young and beautiful, without the pinched look she wears today. In Clarke’s memory she’s wearing a bright red dress a colour that Clarke doesn’t think she’s seen on her mother since that summer, Abby has her eyes closed and head tilted back in laughter. Her father, so young and vibrant with one arm around his wife’s waist the other passing a beer to Thelonious. And then Wells.

_“Here he is!” Thelonious exclaimed as the back door opened and in walked Wells._

_If asked, Clarke would have said that she was friends with Wells because their families were friends. They spent Thanksgiving together every year and she liked him, but she didn’t really know him. But when he walked into he kitchen and rolled his eyes at the adults theatrics she was glad to have an ally._

_“Show Clarke to her room.” Thelonious said after the “hellos and don’t you look so grown up” had been exchanged._

_Wells nodded and Clarke followed him out._

_“What’s with the late welcoming committee?” Clarke teased as she followed Wells down the dim, but thankfully cool corridors and up the stairway towards the other side of the house._

_“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly, “I was in town with some friends and it’s a bit of a walk back.”_

_“I didn’t know you knew people here?” Clarke said casually, but inside she was already worried she’d be left without anyone to spend time with this summer._

_She was good with people when she got to know them but it took her a while to warm up. Plus Wells might not even want to merge the two worlds._

_“I’ve been coming here every summer since I was a kid,” he shrugged, “of course I know people.”_

_“Yeah, of course. I forgot.” Clarke replied, aiming for breezey_

_She wasn’t quite sure it landed because he turned to look at her in the half-light. The corridor had no windows and the doors to the rooms were all closed. He studied her shrewdly, before smiling._

_“Don’t worry. You’ll meet them all later.” He grinned, before turning and walking up the narrow staircase in front of them._ _“I’d say you’ll love them but they can be kind of prickly, so who knows!” He called back over his shoulder._

_Clarke laughed relieved, but before she could respond he’d stopped and flung open a door, bathing them both in sunlight._

_“Welcome to the tower.”_

_“Sounds ominous” Clarke deadpanned following him into the room._

_“Wow.” She breathed, stepping inside._

_The room was entirely circular, with a bed sticking out at a right angle. Clarke thought it might have been the lightest room she’d ever been in with windows on every wall. She walked towards one of them, the biggest one, built into the wall with a curving bench seat below. Up this high she could see over the trees, and noticed the top of a red roof in the distance._

_“Like it?” Wells asked._

_“It’s gorgeous!” She grinned turning back to him with a wide smile, “the light is amazing!”_

_“Well I remember you saying you liked to paint and the rest of the house is pretty dark, so figured this would best. After all you need something to do in this hick town for the summer.”_

_Clarke didn’t know what to say, it was such a thoughtful gesture and even though Wells was trying to play it down, it meant more than she could say._

_“Are you supposed to call it a hick town? Don’t you come here every year?” Clarke teased._

_She didn’t talk about emotions but friendly teasing she could do._

_“Yep. And that is why I’m allowed to say it.” He grinned back, “watch it though the locals are pretty territorial.”_

_“Noted. One of those you can say it but I can’t type things.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_Clarke dumped her bag on the bed and turned back to the big window._

_“Are they your nearest neighbours?” She asked her back to Wells. When he didn’t respond she continued, “that house I can see through the trees.”_

_She turned back towards him in time to catch the dark look that flitted across his face but it was gone, replaced by his usual open smile before she could pin it down._

_“Yeah, that’s the Wallaces. They run a home for wayward teens, called the Commander’s House.”_

_“Seriously? Out here?” Clarke asked._

_“Yeah. I’m sure you’ll meet them at some point. They know my dad and I’m pretty sure they know your mom too.” Wells shrugged._

Clarke didn’t know him well enough to know that he was forcing the lightness in his tone. She’d know it by the end of the summer, would recognise the changes in his voice instantly. Would understand the slight pause in conversation and hitch in tone that people had when they discussed the Commander’s House. But by then it was too late.

Somehow she’d made her way through the house on autopilot, ending up at the door to the tower. She hadn’t intended to stay in that room. The Jaha house had plenty of bedrooms, six or seven if she remembered rightly, but while her mind had been preoccupied with ten years ago her feet were leading her of their own accord.

She pushed the door open carefully, but there was no one to disturb. Nothing there but dust. It looked exactly as she remembered it. Like no one had been in there for years, which couldn’t be true. She couldn’t be the last person to stay there.

She hovered in the doorway arguing with herself, it was just a room, memories that wouldn’t hurt her. But no matter how much she reasoned with herself she couldn’t make her feet move.

In the end, she closed the door and made her way back downstairs. Picking one of the guest rooms on the other side of the house.

Clarke dumped her phone on the bed and dug out her phone. She had one message.

_**Raven** : Miller says he told you about drinks so don’t say you didn’t know_

It was blunt and to the point, about precisely what Clarke would expect from her old friend.

She spends the afternoon in the house, going from room to room, dusting a bit where it needs it but mostly looking around. Clarke isn’t sure what’s she’s looking for exactly, a note from Wells saying he’s fine and has moved to Aruba would be nice but unlikely. Mostly she’s just trying to piece together what the last few years have been like for the Jaha’s. She’d emailed Wells a bit over the years but when she left Mount Weather she effectively ended all communication with everyone and it was only Wells’ persistence that kept them in contact. Now she thinks about it, now she’s really trying to discover what their life was like, she realises how little she really knew.

It’s only her stomach grumbling that makes her stop and look at her watch. It’s almost 7. The afternoon hasn’t been a total waste, she learnt that Wells moved here full time after college to be with his dad – which hadn’t been mentioned in his emails – and there are some recent-ish photos of both Jaha’s that show they still got along. She didn’t root through his room yet, or the tower, but searches of the other rooms were fruitless. The house looked lived in downstairs but all the bedrooms were little more than forgotten shells.

Clarke showers and changes into clean blue jeans and a white tee. She tells herself there’s no point in dressing up, there’s like five people in town who’d notice. But she still puts a little mascara on and braids her hair loosely, so that it doesn’t frizz. And if she tells herself that she’s doing it for her and not because she might run into Bellamy at the bar, that’s fine. She’s ok with lying to herself.

Clarke remembers the route into town and stops to get some groceries, because she has none. Not because she is delaying the inevitable.

Town is essentially one long road. It looks more faded than she remembers, she thinks there are more boarded up shops but honestly, she might be wrong. Some things from that summer loom large in her mind but Main Street is not one of them.

The Dropship is at the end of the road, almost the last building you get to. Clarke finds a spot as close as she can but still has to walk a bit to get there.

The heat is still heavy but she takes her time. Walking under the shade from the buildings, trying to spot what’s changed.

There’s one obvious difference. Instead of Pike Motor’s there is now a bold red sign proclaiming Reyes Garage. She smiles and thinks about taking out her phone to get a picture, but as she pauses she sees another sign above it: Blake construction.

She knew he was in town, Miller told her as much but that sign is somehow harder than seeing him. He stayed. He has roots and a life in the place he swore he’d leave. She wants to know what happened, wants to ask him to fill in every moment of the last ten years, but knows he won’t tell her. Why should he?

Seeing the sign is too much. If she can feel floored by a sign she’s sure as hell not ready to see him. Clarke spins on her heel and turns back the way she came.

“The bar’s that way.”

Clarke looks up and sees Miller with an cute darked-haired Asian man she doesn’t recognise.

“I know, I just left my purse in the car.” Clarke lies.

“The one in your hand?” Miller snorts.

“Uh, yeah. Not the purse but a card. Can’t drink without money right?” Clarke tries.

“I’ll spot ya a drink.” Miller smirks.

She knows he knows she’s trying to bolt. Knows he’d let her go if she was honest about it.

She debates with herself for a moment, but they don’t give her a chance.

“Hi, I’m Monty, Miller’s roommate”

Clarke doesn’t think she imagines the pause before roommate but she takes the outstretched hand.

“I’m Clarke.”

“Yeah I’ve heard all about you.” Monty smiles, Clarke tenses but he carries on blithely, “you knew Nate and everyone when you were kids, right?”

Clarke breathes out a frown before smiling.

“I was about to ask who the fuck Nate is,” she grins.

“When I moved here it took me three weeks of being friend with Raven to work out that the Miller she kept talking about was the same Nate I knew.” Monty laughs.

Clarke laughs along. She knows what they’re doing, manoeuvring her towards the bar as they talk.

Monty goes in first, with Miller behind him.

Clarke pauses in the doorway, the last of the evening sun behind her and the darkness of the bar in front of her.

“I think you should but I won’t force it.” Miller says softly.

Clarke rolls her eyes, she’s come this far.

“I’m right behind you, you’re blocking the door.” She smirks following him inside.

The Dropship is a Mount Weather institution. That summer they all used to talk about it in mythical tones as they passed round vodka swiped from liquor cabinets or six packs bought with fake ids from bored kids working in shops two towns over. It was the place they’d go and be able to drink. Hang out like in the movies.

Clarke hadn’t realised she was still holding on to the thought of it as something special. But it’s not special – it’s just a bar. A normal bar, the kind you’d find in any town in the South. The decor is so old that it’s become trendy again, all brass fittings and leather booths, but it’s not fancy. The floor is sticky. The music is five years out of date and competing with the tv in the corner. And just like everything else in town, it doesn’t live up to her memories.

In a strange way the bar gives her confidence. If it’s that different from what she imagined then maybe he will be too. Maybe he won’t care about ten years ago, what happened that night and the way she left.

“I got you a beer.” Miller shouts, bringing her out of her reverie.

Clarke walks to the furthest booth, where they’re all sitting.

Monty and Miller have slid in on one side and Raven scoots out the other to greet Clarke.

“Hey stranger.” She smiles.

“Hey yourself” Clarke replies pulling her into a hug.

Raven hugs her back tightly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

They pull back, Raven moves back towards the booth and Clarke looks over to see if there’s a space she can perch and there he is.

Sitting in the corner of the booth, one arm stretched along the back on the seat the other on the table, his hand holding his beer loosely.

Clarke knows before he even says a word that this is not going to be better than her memory. It’s going to be way worse.

Monty kindly pushes Miller down along the bench seat so Clarke can sit with them.

She avoids looking at Bellamy, thanking Monty and taking a long pull from her beer but her eyes find his face as if drawn by a magnet. He’s staring at her, the brown eyes she remembers once looking at her so softly are now filled with something cold she doesn’t want to name. He looks older, of course, his hair is a little longer, growing into messy curls around his ears. There’s a patchy beard that she had never thought to imagine but it suits him. He’s still handsome of course. But where once he looked at her with fire that was warm and passionate, now it’s just emptiness.

“So the prodigal daughter returns.” He sneers when she meets his eye.

And dammit if he doesn’t still have a low rumbling voice that goes straight to her stomach.

“Bellamy.” Raven warns.

“What? Are we all just going to pretend that she hasn’t been gone for ten years.”

“No one is pretending but we weren’t going to be dicks about it.” Raven snaps.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that. After all it’s not like she affords anyone else the same courtesy.” He sneers to Raven.

“She has a name.” Clarke snaps, “and if you’re going to trash me the least you can do is be open about.”

“The least I can do,” Bellamy laughs sarcastically, “that’s rich coming from you.”

“Look, I know you don’t want me here but I’m here for Wells.” Clarke tells him.

“Here for Wells, right.” He scoffs, “Wells who you wouldn’t have even known was missing if Raven hadn’t called. Wells who you left just like the rest of us. Spare me.”

“You don’t have to like it but he’s my friend and if I can help, I will. And just because I didn’t speak to you doesn’t mean I didn’t speak to him.” She spits.

Clarke can see that got to him and she’s pleased even though it’s only technically true. If he’s going to be like this she can be too, Clarke can do anger as easily as breathing these days.

“Oh yeah, talked all the time huh. So how come you didn’t know Jaha was gone or that Wells was hanging out in that place.” Bellamy fires back.

Clarke turns to Miller who doesn’t even have the grace to look sheepish, just shrugs.

“Well I’m here now and I want to help. I want to find my friend.” Clarke says gently

“What’s the point? No one comes out of that place. He’s probably dead like the rest of them.”

Clarke recoils as if she’s been slapped and she’s not the only one.

“Too far man.” Miller says low but dangerously.

“I told you if you couldn’t fucking handle this not to come.” Raven practically growls at him.

“I’m sorry.” Bellamy says quietly and he looks it, looking down at the battered table like it holds the secrets of the world.

“He’s not dead.” Raven says firmly, “and we’re going to find him.”

Clarke nods and holds out her hand to Raven.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” She’s talking to everyone but she looks at Bellamy who is determinedly not looking her way, “but I am now and I want to help. So tell me everything you guys know about Wells and what the hell might have happened.”

It comes out in fits and starts. They get another round and then another one. Although Miller and Monty stop drinking after the second, claiming work in the morning.

“Perks of being your own boss, right Blake?” Raven grins and they clink bottles.

Clarke wants to ask but knows he wouldn’t take kindly to it, doesn’t think she deserves to know.

Clarke waits until Bellamy goes to the bathroom to ask, “So what came first? Octavia moving to the Commanders or Wells spending more time there?”

They’ve explained how Wells became more and more interested in the house after he came home from school. How he wanted to use his psychology and pre-law to help. He told them all about it at first, how he kept trying to talk to them but kept getting rebuffed by the new woman in charge Cooper. He was frustrated but then resigned and they thought he’d given up until last year when suddenly he started pulling back from them and spending all his time with Gaia. In all the explanation Octavia’s name hasn’t come up once. It’s the elephant in the room.

“Octavia.” Raven answers. She’s lowered her voice and looks uncomfortable.

“When? Why?” Clarke asks.

This time Raven shares a glance with Miller who answers.

“About three years after you left.”

“What?” Clarke exclaims.

Clarke tries to do the maths in her mind, she was three years older than Octavia. Which means the girl would have moved when she was about 16.

“But how? It wouldn’t have been legal? Bellamy was still her guardian, right?”

As she finishes a shadow moves over the table.

“You’re talking about my sister.”

Clarke looks up guiltily but can’t read the expression on his face.

“Just the basics.” Raven shrugs, not meeting Bellamy’s eye.

“It’s none of her business.” Bellamy practically growls eyes flicking to Clarke.

“It is if it has something to do with Wells.” Clarke snaps back.

“It doesn’t.” Bellamy retorts.

Before Clarke can say anything Miller interjects, “it might. We don’t know what the hell has happened.”

Bellamy slumps down into the seat opposite Clarke but doesn’t say anything, just glowers at her.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She says lightly after a moment of tense silence.

Bellamy looks up at her, his face the softest it’s been all night and she hates what she has to do next but she’s here to help Wells, anything else doesn’t matter.

“I’ll find out anyway. You know what this town is like and as you say, the prodigal daughter has returned. I’m sure people will be only too willing to tell me all about the Blake’s.”

It’s cruel. She knows it is. She doesn’t need to look at Raven and Miller to know she’s crossed a line. Her eyes stay on Bellamy.

Bellamy had always hated the way the town gossiped about him and his sister and now she’s playing on that knowledge from long ago.

The look he gives her could turn her to stone if she’d let it, but she doesn’t she just glares back equally fierce.

“That’s cold, even for you.” He spits eventually.

Clarke shrugs, keeping up her facade, ignoring the way her insides feel like they’re being churned through steel.

“I hate to do this, but I have to go. I’m on an early shift tomorrow.” Monty says softly breaking the angry stare passing between Bellamy and Clarke.

Clarke had forgotten he was there, forgotten anyone but Bellamy was if she’s being honest.

“I’m leaving too. Can I trust you two not to kill each other? I’m on call in the morning and could really do without the hassle.” Miller deadpans.

He’s joking but Clarke can see the worry.

“You know me Miller, never been in trouble in my life.” Bellamy smirks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be referee.” Raven laughs.

Clarke just holds her hands up in surrender and smiles, “best behaviour”

Miller rolls his eyes but motions for Clarke to get out of the booth. She does, standing and accepts hugs from him and Monty.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” She tells Miller once he’s done saying bye to Raven and Bellamy.

He nods and heads of into the night with Monty.

“I’m going to need another drink for this.” Bellamy mutters and heads to the bar.

“You don’t have to stay,” Clarke tells Raven when it’s just the two of them, “we’re adults, we’ll be fine.”

Raven snorts in disbelief.

“Seriously, I don’t want to open old wounds I just want to find Wells.”

Raven narrows her eyes at Clarke who does her best not to quell under the steely gaze.

“You being here is an old wound.” Raven mutters.

The tone isn’t mean but the words come so out of nowhere, that she feels winded – she had thought Raven was on her side.

“You called me!” Clarke exclaims.

“I know and I think it was the right thing to do, but you leaving like you did… Everything that happened that summer wasn’t easy for any of us.” Raven sighs.

“And you think it was easy for me?” Clarke asks incredulous. “I lost everything. Believe it or not that summer is the last good memory I have.”

Clarke is past angry now. She’s in the place of hurt she doesn’t go to often, the place where everything can come back up if she lets it. She can feel the tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She shouldn’t have come back. It was always going to be like this.

“You know what, forget it. I’ll find out for myself, I’ll find Wells myself. I don’t need this shit.” Clarke says standing and grabbing her bag.

She hears Raven call after her but doesn’t care. Coming back was a mistake, being around her old friends again was only ever going to hurt her.

Clarke swipes angrily at her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall and storms down the road. She’s almost at her car when a strong hand grabs hold of her arm.

She is about to turn and punch her attacker when he speaks.

“What the hell?” He asks.

“Leave me alone Bellamy.” Clarke snaps shaking his hand off her arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” She replies not turning around and digging for her keys.

“You’ve been drinking, you can’t drive.” He says putting his hand on her shoulder.

Clarke whirls around to face him, shaking his hand off again.

“Like you care.”

He won’t meet her eyes when he replies, “It’s illegal.”

Clarke huffs a laugh, “it’s fine I know the sheriff.”

She turns away from him again and this time makes it as far as her crappy rental before he’s reaching around her and taking the keys from her hand.

“Clarke stop. You haven’t driven these roads in years you could hurt yourself.”

“Seriously, what do you care?” she spits, “I’m sure me wrapping my car around a tree is pretty high on your wish list.”

Bellamy takes a step back from her and it’s only when he’s gone that she realises how close he’d been.

“Don’t say that. I never wanted that.” He says, pained.

“Yeah, right.” She scoffs.

“I mean it Clarke,” he says cupping her chin and making her look at him, “I might have been furious at you but I never wished you harm.”

“Have been?” Clarke asks softly looking up at him, blue eyes meeting brown.

There’s a beat, the silence hanging in the air as thick as the heat.

“Still am.” Bellamy says softly, dropping his hand from her chin and moving backwards.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if you know that but I am. I never wanted things to go down like that.” Clarke says sincerely searching out his eyes so he knows she means it.

“Thank you.” Bellamy replies, voice croaky.

There’s a pause where neither of them say anything and all they can hear are the distant sounds of the ciccadas and the tinny music coming out of the bar. Bellamy breaks the silence first.

He clears his throat, “so as I won’t let you drive home, you might as well come to my place and let me tell you about Octavia.”

He’s not looking at her, determinedly so, which means she doesn’t know how to take his words. If he means them honestly or just resigned to the inevitable. Or both.

“I don’t know...” she hesitates, “I could probably get a cab.”

To her surprise Bellamy laughs, and smiles at her when he says, “you really have been gone a long time. The only taxi in town is run McCreary.”

“So?” Clarke asks.

“McCreary who was propping up the end of the bar and probably has been since lunch time.” Bellamy explains.

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

There’s a pause and then Bellamy speaks again.

“It’s a one time offer Clarke, you want to know what happened with my sister this is your opportunity.” He looks at her then, long enough for her to see he means it.

Apparently ten years isn’t long enough for him to forget how to get under her skin. Clarke’s natural curiosity will win out against her discomfort every time, something he clearly remembers if the small smile playing on his face is any indication.

“Fine. But I’m on record as thinking this is a bad idea.”

“Noted.” Bellamy rolls his eyes.

Clarke turns back towards the Blake construction sign she saw earlier and Bellamy follows along but when they pull level with the building and she slows he just shakes his head.

“It’s just an office now. I haven’t lived there for years.”

“Oh.”

“I’m about ten minutes out of town, come on.”

Clarke wants to let Bellamy take the lead on the conversation, it was his idea after all but she’s also burning with questions.

She glances at him in the street light trying to gage his mood, but gets distracted by him. The freckles that still dust his cheeks, his profile staring straight ahead with fierce determination.

“What Clarke?” He asks, turning to look at her.

She can feel the heat rush to her cheeks and hopes the dark night hides it.

“How long have you had the beard?” Is what she asks. It’s not the question she really wants to ask but it’s the safest.

“Couple of years.” He shrugs, “don’t like it?”

“It’s your face not mine.”

“So that’s a no then.” He smirks.

“I don’t dislike it, it’s just not what I remembered” she replies not meeting his eyes.

He leans across and pulls at the strand of faded red that’s come out of her braid.

“Ten years is a long time.” He answers his words lighter than his tone.

“That’s what I hear.”

They carry on walking in silence, past the end of town and towards a small turn off.

“I forget how fucking creepy this town is.” Clarke mutters as they turn down a dark road where the trees meet in a canopy overhead. She thinks it might be pretty if it weren’t pitch black and terrifying.

“Bold statement from the girl who is living in a fairytale house with an actual turret.” Bellamy snarks.

“Staying, not living.” She snarks back, “And even you have to admit this has horror movie murder written all over it.”

“We’ve already been through this, I don’t want you dead.” Bellamy deadpans.

“That’s not what I was saying.” Clarke huffs.

“We’re almost there, look.”

Through the trees Clarke can see a light in the distance, the porch light she assumes.

“Come on” Bellamy says stepping in front of her towards the house.

She can’t see much of the outside but she follows him up the steps and takes in the old rocking chair on the porch as she waits for him to open the door.

They go inside and Clarke pauses to take it in. Even though she’s never been here before and has spent the last ten years imagining him in that shitty apartment above the garage she knows that even without him being here she’d know instantly that this was his place. Every part of it is him.

Clarke tries to be subtle as she takes it all in. From the dark wood bookshelf that’s so full of books that some have migrated to piles around the room, to the open fireplace with pictures on the mantle. It’s a real home.

“It’s not much.” He shrugs sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Bellamy, it’s perfect.” She sighs without thinking.

Her words hang in the air and she scrambled to cover them.

“I just mean, it’s uh, like a real home.”

Her shitty apartment with its bare walls and generic furniture flashes in her mind.

“I guess. You want a drink?”

“Sure.” Clark replies accepting the subject change gladly.

Bellamy moves towards the back of the room where Clarke assumes the door leads to the kitchen.

He pauses at the same time she hears a shrill ring tone.

“Sorry, hang on.” He says distractedly, digging into his pocket for his phone.

“It’s Raven.” He tells Clarke.

“Reyes?” He says answering the phone.

Clarke starts to turn away, give him privacy but then she hears Raven faintly through the phone.

“Is Clarke with you?”

She turns back to look at Bellamy.

“Yeah.” He replies.

“Thank fuck. I’ve been trying her cell since she left the bar, I thought she’d done something stupid.”

“No, she didn’t drive, she’s at my place.”

Clarke fumbles in her bag for her phone and there it is:

Raven: 8 missed calls

“Your place? Are you sure that’s wise?" Clarke hears Raven ask.

“It’s fine.” Bellamy replies in a tone that brokers no argument, not that that has ever stopped Raven.

“She’s been back less than twelve hours...” Clarke hears and then Raven’s voice trails off.

Clarke looks up from her phone and sees Bellamy slipping out of the door to the back.

Before it closes she hears him say, “it’s not like that. I know...”

But she never finds out what he knows because he’s gone leaving her alone in the living room, surrounded by him.

She walks over to the bookshelf and sees the mythology books, the history non-fiction she expected nestled alongside modern bestsellers she didn’t.

She trails her hand over the arm of the big brown leather sofa with a soft blanket on the back, and tries not to picture herself curled up on it.

The wooden tv stand looks handmade, as does the bookshelf now she thinks about it. It’s the little things that give it away, tiny imperfections that make everything special but wouldn’t have made it past the factory floor.

She idly wonders if he made them but before she can think too hard on it she finds herself in front of the large fireplace. Clean and empty of coals now it’s June but with logs piled either side ready for winter.

But she’s not looking at the hearth, she’s looking at the photographs that crowd the mantle. There’s one of Miller, Monty, Raven and Bellamy that looks recent. One of Octavia that doesn’t. She looks about the age Clarke remembers her, 12 or 13. There’s one of young Bellamy all wild hair and big gap-tooth grin with a toddler Octavia standing in front of a beautiful woman Clarke knows is Aurora. There’s one of Wells, Bellamy and Miller all grinning at the camera their arms around each other. They look younger than now but older than when she met them. And there at the back is the one she never thought she’d see here. The one that was once pinned on the cork board in the tower. The one that would have been posted all over social media, if social media had been a thing when they were younger.

It was taken at the Mount Weather fair two weeks before everything went to hell and is one of those pictures where everyone looks great.

It was taken at the end of the day, where the heat had been relentless, the sun never-ending and all of them are glowing in the late afternoon light. It’s the kind of light that Clarke thinks of as only existing in the south. She’s never found a moment like it anywhere else.

She sees that the way the photos are arranged means the left side of this one is blocked from view but that doesn’t surprise her. That’s the end where she is.

Wells is in the middle. Smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world. On one side is Raven and then Miller. Raven has her head tilted back in laughter and Miller is frowning at her. Clarke can’t remember now what Raven had said but the moment is captured forever.

On Wells’ other side is Clarke. Her hair is long and wavy in the picture and she’s wearing a black tank top and jean shorts. She remembers that her shoulders were burnt by the end of the day but you can’t see it in the picture.

She leans forward and grabs the picture to look at herself again. And of course, the boy to her left.

Bellamy looks so happy she thinks. His hair is shorter than now, the way she remembers it and he was a mass of freckles from long days spent lying lazily in the sun.

Wells’ arm is slung over her shoulder but it doesn’t matter, she’s curled toward Bellamy grinning up at him like no one else exists. She remembers the feeling of the grey cotton t-shirt he was wearing, the heat coming off him in waves. She hasn’t looked at the picture in years but she’d thought of it occasionally when she couldn’t help it and she’d and always thought she was looking at the camera, that they both were. But now she remembers.

He’d made a quip about being able to see down her top and she’d turned to him with a frown. But he’d just smirked and said, camera’s that way princess and she’d grinned despite herself. Both of them smiling up at each other, eyes for no one else.

And that was when Lexa took the picture.

“Seems like a hundred years ago.” Bellamy says from behind her.

Clarke jumps and almost drops the photograph. Blushing she smiles sheepishly at him before putting the frame back on the mantle where she found it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“It’s ok.” Bellamy replied, handing over a beer, “I’ve got water or something stronger if you want.”

“No this is fine.” Clarke smiles, taking the beer he offers.

Now without interrupts from Raven or the comfort of the bar around them she is acutely aware of being in Bellamy’s house, with him. Alone. For the first time in years. If they way he awkwardly shifts is any indication, so is he.

“Uhh, what happened?” Clarke asks, at his confused expression she adds, “with Octavia.”

He sighs and it’s so heavy she feels it as if it’s coming from her own body.

“Do you want to sit? It’s kind of a long story.”

Clarke sits on the edge of the faded armchair not wanting to be next to him on the couch. Well, that’s not true, she wants nothing more than to be next to him but that’s a dangerous emotion she isn’t willing to acknowledge.

Bellamy sits back on the deep leather couch and takes a long pull from his beer before looking at her.

“Do you remember Lexa’s friend, Echo?”

It takes Clarke a minute to remember, the names have all blurred from that time – other than Anya and Lexa – and she’s not sure she can place the other but then it comes back to her. She remembers seeing Echo a few times, they never spoke but she knew Lexa.

“Yeah, tall angry. Looked like she wanted to destroy the world.”

“That’s her.” Bellamy grins at her.

Bellamy plays with the label of his beer bottle before continuing and when he speaks he’s not looking at Clarke, he’s staring away from her determinedly looking at nothing.

“After… everything that summer, I was a mess. And it only got worse. I had custody of Octavia but I wasn’t being a particularly great guardian and it seemed like every choice I made was the wrong one.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Clarke starts but Bellamy stops her with a look.

“I don’t need your sympathy Clarke.”

“I wasn’t–” she tries again, before shaking her head. “Sorry, go on.”

“The only reason Octavia stayed in school was because of the Miller’s, well David mostly. Raven, Miller and me, we fucked around that year. Drank too much didn’t turn up for work or school. It’s a miracle that Miller graduated high school.”

Clarke doesn’t want to hear that it was as hard for them as it was for her but it seems like Bellamy has never told this story before. So she lets him keep going.

“Some of the girls from the Commanders House had been moved to a building at the end of town, while they repaired the house.”

Clarke fidgets awkwardly but Bellamy ignores her.

“Echo was one of them. She and I started hooking up.”

Clarke works so hard to keep her face expressionless she thinks she might have frozen entirely. If it wasn’t for the painful clenching of her heart she might assume that had been the case.

“It was just sex.” Bellamy says quietly his eyes glancing over to where she is sitting.

Clarke keeps very still not wanting to betray anything even though inside all she can hear is her own voice screaming “just sex” as though the thought of that makes it any better.

“But then it became something more. We became something more. She helped me get my shit together, was good for me. I was good for her.”

“I’m glad.” Clarke says weakly when it seems like a response is required.

Bellamy scoffs softly and Clarke can’t bring herself to tell him that she means it, she is glad. That she never wanted him to hurt forever like she is, that she only wants the best for him, for him to be the happiest. But she can’t tell him that because then she’ll have to tell him that he is her happiest, that she’s never been as happy as that summer and she selfishly wishes he had never been too.

She can’t say all that though, so instead she says, “What does this have to do with Wells? Octavia?”

Bellamy sighs like she’s chosen the wrong thing to say but continues.

“I was with Echo for almost three years in the end. She got out of that place, we lived together, had a life. O was part of that life she trusted Echo.”

Bellamy is clearly not done so she waits.

“I trusted Echo. But one day I came home and they were gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“I mean, I was picking up some shifts at the Dropship and came back to an empty apartment. I assumed they were out but then when I went into my room all of Echo’s stuff was gone.”

“I called her and she told me it was over and she was sorry but that Octavia would be safe.”

Clarke gapes at Bellamy trying to put his words together. There’s no possible version of the world that Clarke knows where he would just let his sister go. Not without a fight.

“I don’t get it.” Clarke frowns, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, one minute I was living with my girlfriend and my sister and thinking everything was great and the next. My girlfriend breaks up with me and my sister tells me that they’re moving into the Commander’s House.”

“What why? That makes no sense.”

“I know.” Bellamy sighs.

“They can’t just go.” Clarke exclaims, furious on his behalf for a slight that happened years ago.

“They can and they did. I tried everything.” Bellamy says anguished, his beer forgotten on the side and his head in his hands.

Clarke wants to go to him but can’t make herself move, doesn’t think it would be fair to either of them. So instead she watches and waits.

“But Echo wouldn’t talk to me and you know what that place is like, I couldn’t get to her. They wouldn’t even let me see Octavia.”

“But you were her guardian.” Clarke says.

“True, but Echo had been looking after her too. And I tried the courts but I was blocked at every turn.” He looks up then, pleading with his deep brown eyes for her to understand he tried.

“Of course you were.”

Clarke remembers the power that the Wallaces had back then, they had links to every law enforcement agency for hundreds of miles.

“Eventually Miller’s dad told me to stop trying. He said that at least we knew where Octavia was and that if I kept pushing she might disappear like the others.”

Clarke says nothing, there is unfortunately some logic in that but she can imagine how it broke Bellamy.

“So Octavia and Echo are just living there now? Back at the House?”

Bellamy laughs bitterly, a sound she hasn’t heard from him before.

“No, just my sister. Echo left a couple of months after they moved back. Just disappeared one night. Not my first girlfriend to do that, but at least she had the grace to break up with me first.”

Clarke takes the words like a blow but says nothing, after all you can’t argue with facts even if they aren’t entirely true.

She straightens her shoulders trying to show she’s ok, that the bitterness and hurt in his words hasn’t hurt her. If you pretend you can make it real, her dad used to say. Clarke is well practised at that, she’s been pretending to be fine for years.

“So Octavia’s just been living there for what seven years? And you don’t speak?” Clarke asks.

“I see her in town sometimes, but she made it clear she wants nothing to do with me.” Bellamy shrugs but Clarke can see the effort it takes him to act nonchalant.

“Oh Bellamy,” Clarke sighs without thinking, moving slightly towards him, reaching out imperceptibly, “I’m so sorry.”

“It is what it is. People leave, you can either let it break you or you carry on.”

Clarke feels the shutdown and chill that comes from his words and notices that while she may have moved towards him, he’s stayed perfectly still away from her. She crosses her legs and tries to make it look like she was just shifting, rather than drawn to him.

“And Wells, when he started going there, did he talk to your sister?” She asks, desperate to not get distracted by the boy with the broken heart.

“If he did he didn’t tell me.” Bellamy replies.

Clarke doesn’t know what to say. It feels like there’s an obvious piece of the puzzle she’s missing but she can’t grasp it. She’s tired and very aware she’s sitting in her ex-boyfriend’s home.

“Thank you for telling me about Octavia.” Clarke says.

“Turns out there’s not much to tell.” He shrugs brusquely.

Clarke doesn’t think that’s true but also knows a shut down when she hears one.

“I should go. It’s late.”

“Clarke, the Chancellors House is miles away. Stay. I’ll take the couch.”

“No!” Clarke exclaims without thought.

Bellamy tilts his head to look at her and Clarke feels a blush rising to her cheeks. She can’t say why she doesn’t want to go in his room and she knows he won’t let her leave alone this late.

So instead she simply says, “I mean that’s very kind but I’ll take the couch. I’m smaller than you and don’t have to work in the morning.”

If Bellamy notices she’s fallen back into the polite mask of the well-brought-up and wealthy he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he nods, leaves the room and returns with a sheet, blanket and some pillows.

“Bathroom’s down the hall.” He tells her pointing to the doorway he went through earlier, which Clarke assumes also leads to the kitchen and the rest of the house.

“Night.” He says walking off through a door on the left of the room Clarke hadn’t even noticed.

“Night.” She replies softly as she puts the sheet over the couch.

Clarke wriggles out of her jeans and lies down on the couch, pulling the blanket over her and trying not to notice the smell of it, a smell she doesn’t recognise but that comforts anyway.

If you had told Clarke that 48 hours ago when Raven called her she’d end up on Bellamy’s couch with just a door between them and that it wouldn’t even make her top three concerns, she’d have said you were crazy.

And yet, as she lies in the unfamiliar room that feels so safe it isn’t Bellamy Blake, the boy who broke her heart that she’s thinking about. It’s Wells. Octavia. The Commander’s House. As the tiredness finally overtakes her it isn’t the missing girls that she dreams of or Wells, but a carousel that is spinning with Wells, Bellamy, Lexa, her dad and she can see them all but her horse won’t go any faster and she can’t keep up. It’s just her alone, with everyone out of sight.

In the morning Clarke wakes up to a sun-filled room, the smell of coffee and a note.

_Help yourself to coffee._

_Your car is outside._

_Bellamy_

[BELLAMY/ECHO BACKSTORY]

[OCTAVIA BACKSTORY]


	13. A Kiss With A Fist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellarke Boxing AU. About two summers ago I did an interview with the owner of an old boxing gym in London that was on the brink of collapse because kids had stopped boxing. On the way home from the interview I started writing this (I was deep in my Bellarke phase back then and almost every thing I saw or heard could be linked back to them). I was also watching a lot of Chicago PD around the time. So, here we are a boxing au where Clarke has been away "for reasons" like in all my stories and there is angst. With a happy ending if I'd written that far.
> 
> I should say that Bellamy and Echo are a couple in this (though he is obvs in love with Clarke) but if that is not your vibe then quit out.

Clarke scrolls through the email again, even though she knows what it says and has read it more times than she can count in the last 48 hours.

**From: Wells Jaha**

**To: Clarke Griffin**

_Hey – I know I said I wouldn't get involved and wouldn't act as messenger but I think you're going to want to see this. Your mom sent it earlier this morning._

**Fwd: FOR CLARKE**

**From: Abigail Griffin**

**To: Wells Jaha**

_Dear Wells,_

_I know you have told me that you don't know where my daughter is and that you're not in contact with her but in case you are, in case you miraculously do know how to get in touch with her please pass on the below message. I hate to put you in this position Wells but she has left me no other options._

_I hope you are well. Your father tells me you're already making your mark at your law firm._

_Best, Abigail_

\--

_Clarke,_

_I know you want nothing to do with me, or Chicago, but I have a feeling you will want to know this. I am selling Griffin's Gym. This has not been an easy decision but it is a necessary one. It goes to auction at the end of the month._

_I know how much that space meant to you so I wanted you to know before it gets sold – one of the keen prospective buyers is a developer who is interested in the land for housing. I am not sure where you are in the country, or if you are even in the country, but I wanted to let you know so you are prepared._

_My love always, Mom_

Clarke turns her phone over in her lap and looks at the streets whizzing by. She'd treated herself to a cab from the airport not wanting to get the train at this time, just wanting to get to Griffin's before it was too late. 

As the roads start to get darker, with more potholes and houses appearing out of the darkness on either side Clarke sits up straighter and gets closer to the window. This was her world, the streets she'd grown up on. The city she'd called home.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" The driver asks Clarke. Hitting the automatic lock on the car as they go through street after street each one looking rougher than the one before.

"I'm sure. It's just up here on the left." 

She expected the glow of the lights, the bass of the music to greet her as she got out of the car, but instead there was only darkness and silence. 

"Would you mind waiting?" Clarke asks the driver as she opens the door.

"Sure." He shrugged, "Meter's running."

"Of course it is," she mutters, closing the door behind her.

Clarke walks to the heavy main door and tries it but knows before she even pulls the handle that it is locked and closed. She checks the time on her old watch wondering if maybe she was still on West Coast time, but no, it was 8pm. Clarke walks around the side of the red brick building and runs up the metal stairs that led to the office and tries the door there, just in case, but nothing. Griffin's Gym, the place that had been so bright and vibrant when she was growing up was closed.

The driver agrees to take Clarke on to another stop and although it was only five minutes away it was a different world. The streets were wider, the roads had less potholes, the houses were spread further apart. 

"Just here, thanks." Clarke tells the driver as they pull up next to an impressive looking Greystone house.

She hands over the money, mentally cursing herself for not pre-booking and instead paying the insane airport rates.

Clarke could tell instantly that no one was in so she went around the back to where her parents used to keep the spare key and hoped it was still there and that the alarm code hadn't changed.

Clarke opens the back door and plugs in the six-digit-code, which is still Jake's birthday, Abby's birthday and Clarke's birthday. When the alarm is off she drops her bag at the back door and walks through into the kitchen. Despite not having been there for almost two years everything is practically as she remembered. 

Clarke flips on the lights and walks over to fridge. She'd been travelling all day and was hungry but the fridge was empty except for some oat milk and carrots, neither of which Clarke was really in the mood for. Sighing, she closes the fridge door and leans against it.

A calendar on the other side of the kitchen catches Clarke's eye. She goes over and notices with a start that her mother still put her hospital shifts on the calendar even though there’s no one else in the house to worry.

This small thing, a habit from a time less lonely, makes Clarke's breath catch. Ignoring her quest for food she instead bends down to the wine rack and grabs a bottle of red wine from the top row. Abby always stored her wine in order of cost. That way if she had impromptu guest she never had to look at the label to see if the wine was appropriate to serve.

Clarke grabs a glass from the usual cabinet and the corkscrew from the usual drawer and sits at the kitchen table to pour a very large glass of wine.

The last time she'd been in this room she'd stood across from her mother, each of them either side of this table and said some of the most hurtful things to each other that Clarke could imagine. The last thing she had said was that she just needed some time and space. That had been almost two years ago. The longer she'd stayed away the harder it had been to come back, she'd thought her hurt would subside, that her anger would fade and in a way it had, it had faded into the background. No longer a daily pain, instead it was something that burnt brightly and painfully when she thought about it, so she didn't.

But now here she was, back in the house she'd grown up in. Waiting for her mother to finish at the hospital. This had once been a fixture of Clarke's life, but back then she'd waited at the Gym with her dad or on the rare day that Abby hadn't worked, the two of them would wait in the kitchen for Jake. But not anymore, now there was just a calendar with shift times no one would read and an empty kitchen where no one was waiting.

The thought made Clarke sad, she might be angry with her mother but she hated to think of her alone. When Clarke was away it had been easy to think she was the only one hurting but she knew it wasn't true and being back made it even clearer.

Clarke checks the calendar again – Abby wasn't working until midday tomorrow. That decided it. She grabs a piece of paper from the note pad by the phone (even though it was 2018 and no one made house calls anymore Abby still believed in the power of the landline).

_Mom - got in earlier but tired so went to bed. Speak in the morning. Clarke_

She leaves a note, grabs the wine and her bag and goes upstairs. 

Clarke's room was as she'd left it, albeit tidier. Magda must still come every week because Clarke's bed looked freshly made and she could see even from her vantage point in the doorway that there wasn't a spec of dust to be found. 

She hovers in the doorway, wondering if maybe she should sleep in the guest room. It didn't feel right to just come in like this, but as she stands there her eyes land on the picture of her parents and Clarke in her Northwestern sweatshirt standing outside the house the morning she left for college. And she could hear Jake's voice, "whether you live on campus or not this is always your home. Hell, I don't care if you go to mars, you always have a bed here."

Clarke goes in and pushes the door closed behind her. She put her glass and the bottle on the nightstand and kicks off her shoes before sitting on her bed and closing her eyes, this is my home she thinks, trying to convince herself of something she no longer quite believes.

+

Clarke wakes the next morning to sun coming through her windows. She'd managed to change into shorts and an oversize tee and take off her make up last night but had somehow forgotten to close her blinds.

She groans and grabs her phone from beside her. It wasn't even seven, she did not want to be awake right now. Clarke lies there willing herself to go back to sleep but she knows it is impossible.

Clarke makes her way downstairs quietly, not wanting to wake her mother, but she needn't have worried because there at the kitchen table is Abby Griffin, somehow managing to look elegant in her midnight blue robe at this time of the morning, while Clarke feels like a dishevelled teenager despite being nearly 24.

"Oh Clarke," Abby sighs, standing quickly and moving to embrace her daughter. Clarke stiffened in Abby's embrace but let her mother hug her.

"Hi mom, I didn't think you'd be up." 

"I sleep less and less these days, plus I didn't want to miss you this morning." Abby admits, "Coffee?"

"Yes please." 

Clarke loved her mother and had always felt loved by her but it wasn't as easy without Jake and all Clarke could think of was the last argument they'd had.

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and accepts the coffee from her mom.

"It's so good to see you sweetheart." Abby begins.

Clarke smiles noncommittally taking a sip of her coffee. 

"How long are you back for? You can stay as long as you want of course." Abby says in a rush.

"You can't sell the gym." Clarke blurts out.

She hadn't intended to jump in like that but now, sitting opposite from her mom, she couldn't pretend it was a normal visit. Not after all this time.

"Clarke," Abby begins wearily.

"No mom, I mean it, you can’t. It's dad's legacy." 

"Clarke," Abby tries again.

"It meant everything to dad and I know it was never your thing but you can't just sell it."

"Clarke, I don't have a choice. It is haemorrhaging money." Abby says.

"I went by last night and it was closed. At eight. Why? You know he never shut before ten. If you want it to make money you need to keep it open." 

"It's not that simple."

"It really is." Clarke replies petulantly.

"No, it's not. It's closed because no one is using it. I was paying people to stand in an empty room."

"That doesn't make sense. It used to be the busiest place in Chicago, I know dad's... gone, but people still need to train." Clarke tries.

"It's not a decision I've taken lightly Clarke, I tried, I really did. But after your father passed away the people that went for him stopped coming and the, uhh, guys that were there before had a following that they took with them. Once Jacapo retired there was no one to go for." Abby explains.

Clarke appreciates the light if awkward way Abby avoided talking about what happened before Jake's death but it didn't change her mind. If anything it made her more determined.

"You must be loving this, you always hated that boxing was dad's passion. Now you finally get your own way."

"That is not true. I never made any secret of my dislike of boxing, I'm a neurosurgeon Clarke I was never going to support a bloodsport that put people in danger but I loved your father's passion for the gym. I supported him 100 per cent and I still do but the truth is Griffin's is an empty shell where people once boxed. The place you remember doesn't exist." Abby explains tiredly before continuing, "And yes, I could keep it open despite the fact that we lose money every day and the bank and all financial advisors have told me repeatedly to close it. If it was the place it had been, maybe I would. But as it is now, it's a disgrace your father."

"How convenient." Clarke spits bitterly, "you get to claim you're doing this for dad but in fact it's about you as always."

"Really Clarke, you're going to accuse me of making selfish choices? Because as far as I can see you're the one who has suddenly decided to care again." 

Abby stands up from table abruptly and walks over to the kitchen counter to pick up a stack of letters Clarke hadn't noticed before.

"Don't believe me, then maybe these will convince you." Abby says, thrusting the paperwork at Clarke.

Clarke flips through the pile and can see instantly that they were all from either the bank or realtors.

"This is not a decision I made easily or without thought but if you don’t believe me go and see for yourself. The gym keys are in the usual place."

With that Abby left the room, leaving Clarke alone.

+

Clarke opens the door to Griffin’s Gym hesitantly. She knew from the letters and files that her mother had given her that they hadn’t been making a profit in months and that the Gym had been completely closed for a month now. It wasn’t official, it wouldn’t be until they sold, but the Gym was closed – the fact that no one had noticed was telling.

She pushes open the heavy door and hits the lights at the bottom of the stairs. Clarke closes the door behind her and goes up the stairs. The gym was on the second floor of the building, it was pre-war and tired even when Clarke was small but Jake had always insisted that was what gave it character. She pushes the wooden door open and walks into the main gym. The smell was the first thing that hit her before she even switches on the lights or fully enters the room. It smelt slightly stale, of old sweat and the material of the mat, of the chalk and something that Clarke had never been able to recreate but that smelt like home.

Clarke hits the light switch and waits as the old fluorescent bars come to life, each one humming and flickering half-heartedly before bursting into light. The blinds along the outer wall were drawn but Clarke didn’t bother with them, instead she followed the path she’d taken every day after school and many years after. Along to the right hand side of the room pass the floor mats and just to the side of the ring. From there she walked up the wooden staircase – if the blinds opposite had been open she’d get a view of the whole block – at the top of the staircase she turned back on herself and walked along to the office. It sat above the showers and locker rooms, and as such always had a slight humid air. The door to the office had a lock but Clarke had never known it to be locked, so she turns the handle and sure enough the door opens.

The room smells like dust but behind it she could sense Jake and that was enough to stop Clarke in her tracks. She leans against the doorway and closes her eyes willing the tears that are collecting to go away. Clarke keeps her eyes closed as she bites her lip and counts silently to ten, long enough to pull herself together. She opens her eyes again and for a split second thinks she sees Jake in his usual grey hoodie and black sweatpants, mug of coffee on the table as he sat in his chair and smiled at Clarke as she told him about her day. Or on one of the times when Abby would come in and he’d tease her with a smile on his face and soft eyes about being in a gym. She could see him being so proud when Bellamy won the title fight. And then as if the screen changed she saw him, the last time she’d seen him alive so angry with her, so disappointed. Clarke cries then. No amount of lip biting or deep breaths could stop the tears, though she tries.

She’s not sure how long she cries. Long enough to sit on the floor. Long enough to tell herself to stop more than once, but if it was five minutes or fifteen Clarke couldn’t say. When the tears stop, Clarke wipes her eyes and goes to Jake’s desk. He might have died angry with her but she wouldn’t let that be the end. As long as she was a Griffin she would find a way to save Griffin’s Gym.

Clarke stays in the office until darkness falls outside. She sits long enough to read through everything, to see that her mother hadn’t just been telling the truth, but actually had underplayed it. Griffin’s was in trouble for all the reasons Abby had outlined and many more. Sure, the estate could afford to keep the building but that wouldn’t be fair to Jake’s memory.

When Clarke finally drags herself out of the office it wasn’t because she had a plan, it was because she was hungry. She orders food to arrive when she gets home and sits at the kitchen table forming her plan. She knows what she wants to do but needs Abby to sign off on it. Still, she sends a text and makes a phone call to put the wheels in motion. Clarke goes to bed rehearsing her speech for Abby and ready to fight for her dad’s legacy.

+

It’s getting dark outside, the long summer evening drawing to a close. People are heading home from bars, or late shifts at work, thinking about bed but in McCreary’s Fitness it’s still lively. The lights are bright and the bass of the latest grime hit blares through the speakers.

Bellamy watches, arms crossed over his chest, as his little sister ducks and weaves in the middle of the ring, darting left and then right to avoid being hit.

“She’s favouring her right.” Echo tells him. He didn’t need her to say it, he could see for himself, but he nods in response.

“She’s fast though, and strong.” Echo adds.

“Still depends who she goes up against.” Bellamy replies, taking his eyes off his sister to look at his girlfriend. Her long hair is pulled back in a braid on one side with the rest of it falling loosely around her shoulders, even after a day working out he still think she looks gorgeous.

“I know.” Echo concedes, “but that’s not in your control.”

It gets right to the heart of Bellamy’s worry and he gives her a wry grin before leaning in for a soft kiss.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you being here but why are you here?” He asks, pulling back and kissing her shoulder lightly before turning his eyes back to the ring.

“Not meeting Raven until later so I thought I’d check in before I change and remind you there’s a big wide world outside this gym.” She teases.

“I know that.” He replies, not taking his eyes off his sister who is now sparring with Lincoln and Miller, spinning back and forth between them each time the buzzer at the side of the ring goes.

“Uh huh.” Echo laughs, “Try to leave here before midnight.”

“You’re not coming over?” Bellamy asks turning back towards her.

“Nah, Raven wants to meet at her place, which is closer to my place. I’m in at lunch tomorrow though.”

“Say hi to Raven for me.” Bellamy smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Echo kisses him back gently before pulling back and running her hands down his arms, “seriously, don’t stay here all night. And eat something.”

“Yes boss.” Bellamy laughs as she walks away. He watches her for a split second, admiring her body in the tight all-black workout gear she favours. When she’s gone he turns his attention back to his sister.

She’s laughing with Miller and Lincoln now, the workout over. He watches her swat at something Miller says and then leans back against Lincoln who looks down at her fondly.

Bellamy can feel himself frowning and tries to school his face back into a neutral expression as he walks over to them.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Lincoln, he does. Hell, if it was anyone else dating him he’d be Lincoln’s hype man but Octavia will always be his baby sister and they met when she was only 18, when there was so much else going on that he worries that they’re together for the wrong reasons. He doesn’t say that of course. He and Octavia long ago decided to stop talking about each other’s love lives for the sake of their relationship, and sanity.

“Why are you still here?” Miller asks as Bellamy heads over to the ring, “wasn’t your last session finished at eight?”

“You know Bell has no life.” Octavia teases.

“Funny,” Bellamy replies dry, “I was finishing up some accounts for Paxton.”

They all frown. Bellamy understands – he doesn’t like the boss anymore than they do, but he’s been good to him. Mostly leaving him alone and letting him shape the gym the way he wanted after he left Griffin’s. As long as McCreary Fitness makes money, legally, Paxton is happy to leave him to it.

“I need a shower.” Octavia moans.

“That was quite the workout.” Miller laughs.

“You weren’t doing any of the work.” Octavia shoots back.

“Did you see any? She’s looking good.” Lincoln says turning to Bellamy.

“She is.” He agrees.

“But?” Octavia asked.

“I didn’t say but.”

“No you didn’t but it was there hanging at the end.” Octavia replies, rolling her eyes at her brother.

“But you’re favouring your right.” He sighs.

Octavia nods and then after a pause asks, “is that from you or her? I saw her talking to you earlier.”

“Of course we were talking, she’s my girlfriend.” Bellamy snaps, before adding, “does it matter who said it?”

“To me it does.”

“She pointed it out but I’d already noticed,” Bellamy admits. “You’re shielding your left. Stepping too much into your right to avoid getting hit on that side.”

“I wonder why that is.” Octavia glowers, “maybe because the last time I was in a competitive fight it was your girlfriend’s hits to my left side that nearly killed me.”

“O...” Bellamy starts.

“Or have you forgotten that?” She snaps.

Bellamy looks for Lincoln or Miller for support but they’ve wisely disappeared when he was focussed on his sister.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten that.” He snaps back, “That was one of the worst fucking moments of my life O, I will never forget that.”

“Sure seems like you have.” Octavia shrugs dismissively, before ducking down under the ropes and climbing out of the ring.

“You know I haven’t but I’m not doing this with you again. She never meant to hurt you and it was declared a fair fight.” Bellamy sighs following after his sister.

“Uh huh.”

“O…”

“What Bell, what?” She starts turning back to face him her long braids whipping around behind her, “You didn’t believe it was fair at the time but now it’s fine.”

“She apologised.”

“Yeah she did, doesn’t mean I have to believe her or accept it.”

“I believe her.”

“Oh you have made that quite clear.” Octavia interrupts. She continues, annoyed, “Tell me, did you think it would be helpful telling me less than two weeks before my fight that you think I’m not up to it?”

“That wasn’t what I–“

“Because spoiler alert, it’s not helpful. It’s not fucking helpful at all.”

“That wasn’t what I was saying O. You’re looking great. It was just an observation.” Bellamy sighs, pleading at his sister to believe him.

Octavia shakes her head and starts aggressively un-braiding her hair as she retorts, “Yeah, an observation made by your girlfriend, who is the reason I favour one side. And yes, I know you think she didn’t mean it and you’re past it or whatever but we both know you wouldn’t be with her if Clarke hadn’t left.”

Bellamy has always thought that there’s a moment when a punch lands that you can hear the shock. You can hear the impact of course, but he’s always thought you can hear the surprise from the other person from being hit.

It feels like that now.

“Bell, I–“ Octavia starts, stricken.

She takes a step towards him, braids forgotten. She knows she’s gone too far, Clarke is the one thing they don’t mention.

“I didn’t mean…” she tries limply. But doesn’t finish the sentence, because she did mean it. She meant all of it and Bellamy knows that.

“It’s fine.” He shrugs, face blank, “For what it’s worth I think you’ll be amazing.” And then he leaves heading back into his office.

Octavia doesn’t go after him, there’s no point, she meant it and he knows it. This is why they don’t talk about Echo, or Clarke. She keeps un-braiding her hair as she walks towards the showers.

“You look like a lion.” Lincoln teases, as she walks into the corridor, fondly reaching out and lightly pulling a piece of her hair. He’s leaning against the wall talking to Miller.

“What’s wrong?” Lincoln asks softly when he takes in Octavia’s expression.

“I’ll leave you to it, night guys.” Miller says pushing off the wall.

“Wait. Bell and I got into a fight.”

“That’s not new.” Lincoln says fairly.

“I brought up Clarke.” Octavia admits.

Lincoln has never met Clarke but he’s heard about her. At first it was only as an aside but then he heard the whole story, not from Bellamy, never from Bellamy, but he heard enough from everyone else. He knows enough to know it’s not something that any of them talk about.

“I’ll go and see him.” Miller tells her, squeezing Octavia’s shoulder as he goes past.

“I know I’m the worst.” Octavia sighs looking up at Lincoln.

“Not what I was going to say. Let’s go home, you can shower there and I’ll sort dinner.” Lincoln tells her, putting his arm over her shoulders and drawing her close.

“I don’t even know why I said it.”

“Because that’s how you two argue – one of you always goes for the kill shot.”

“Yeah, well this time I think I just mortally wounded. Fucking Echo.”

“How is this her fault?” Lincoln asks reasonably.

“It’s always her fault.” Octavia whines petulantly.

“Oh of course, my mistake.” Lincoln deadpans rolling his eyes at Octavia.

She smiles in spite of herself, knowing that she’s being ridiculous. The smile doesn’t stay on her face though, she’s too worried about Bellamy. But he has Miller, and her, he’ll be ok, she thinks. It’s just a name. It’s not like Clarke’s around to hurt him again.

*

“I’m really not in the mood to go another round O.” Bellamy sighs wearily without looking up when he hears the knock on the door to his office.

“Not Octavia.” Miller smiles, “Although I have been called worse.”

“Funny.”

“Monty and I are going for pizza, wanna join?” Miller asks coming into the office and flopping down on the worn grey couch.

“Pity pizza?”

“It’s not pity pizza.”

Bellamy fixes him with a look, “I know you saw me and O fighting.”

“If I offered pity pizza every time you got in a fight with your sister, we’d be eating pizza for ever meal.” Miller says reasonably.

“True,” Bellamy concedes, “so what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. I just know Echo is with Raven tonight so thought you might want some company.” Miller shrugs.

“Thanks man, but I’ve got end of month accounts to finish up.” Bellamy sighs gesturing to the papers on his desk.

“Sure?”

“Sure. Raincheck.”

“Always.” Miller grins standing up and heading out of the office, when he’s in the doorway he pauses and turns back, “you good?”

“I’m good, thanks man.” Bellamy smiles.

Miller nods then heads out leaving Bellamy alone with his paperwork.

Bellamy shuffles the papers on his desk and tries to concentrate but he can’t. His mind keeps going back to when Octavia was in the hospital and he thought she was going to die. And though he doesn’t want to think about it he can’t help but flash to the other night he spent in Chicago Memorial, when Jake died. He can still feel the hot tears on his shoulder as Clarke sobbed, her hand in his leaning on him with all her weight. He can still feel the memory of the burning in his chest when he realised Jake was really gone.

“Fuck!” Bellamy shouts slapping his hands on his desk and standing up.

He shakes his head to clear the memories and grabs a beer from the mini fridge in his office. He’s structured with his drinking – training and alcohol don’t go hand in hand but tonight he tells himself he deserves a beer, a treat for the accounts in front of him. He sits back down and starts on the paperwork stubbornly refusing to think of anything else.

+

Clarke sits on the worn red leather in the booth and idly runs her finger alongside the condensation of her drink. It’s hot outside, unseasonal for September so everyone keeps saying, but she doesn’t mind it, she likes people watching and everyone always seems lighter in the summer. She’s focusing on a couple of kids outside who are laughing on the other side of the street so she misses her companion’s arrival until he’s at the booth.

“Hello Clarke.”

“Jacapo!” She grins sliding out to hug him.

“It’s been a while.”

Clarke nods and goes back to her seat as he slides in opposite her, his back to the front of the diner.

“I have to say I was surprised to get your call.” He begins once the waitress has brought over his ice tea, “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah, it was a last minute decision.” Clarke mumbles.

“So I assume you called about Griffins?” He says with no preamble.

“You assume right. Did you know? That she’s selling.”

“I did.” He nods.

“Don’t tell me you agree with that decision?” Clarke asks arching one brow as she stares at the man she’s known her whole life.

“It’s not my decision to make.” He replies softly.

“But you guys built it from nothing.” Clarke pleads.

“I know, but Clarke if you’ve talked to your mother you know that it can’t stay open.”

“She says its loosing money but of course it is, no one is ever there.”

“I tried,” he says softly, “but you know I the money side was never my forte. You’d be better off speaking to Marcus.”

“Did I just hear my name?” Marcus Kane asks coming level with the table. He hasn’t seen Jacapo yet, his eyes only on Clarke.

“I should have known.” Jacapo mutters as Clarke hides her smile.

“Hello Clarke.” Marcus smiles softly as she slides out to give him a hug. “Sinclair.” He says with a nod.

“Marcus.” Sinclair replies.

Clarke shifts up with her back to the window as Marcus slides into the booth next to her.

“Look, neither of you are stupid,” Clarke starts, “and so I wanted to talk to both of you to see if you think there is any hope of saving Griffins. My dad trusted you and I do too.”

The two men share a look that Clarke can’t interpret.

“My mom says there’s no way but I can’t believe that it can just die like that. You and dad built that place from the ground up, it can’t just be done.” Clarke says firmly but a little watery as the two men continue to say nothing.

“We don’t want it to close any more than you do, but your mom is right about the money. Griffin’s isn’t making any and if it wasn’t for the fact your parents owned the building it would have been closed a long time ago.” Marcus tells her.

“But I don’t get why. Why did you all just leave?” Clarke asks.

“It wasn’t suddenly, it didn’t happen over night.” Sinclair says softly.

“So what did happen?” Clarke asks before adding stroppily, “I’m a big girl I can take it.”

The three of them are silent and Clarke watches as Sinclair and Kane have a conversation without saying a word. They’d grown up with her dad, the three musketeers, all of them friends since childhood. They used to joke that the only reason Marcus tolerated them is because he couldn’t land a punch to save his life and he would retaliate that without him they’d all be penniless bums. The truth was somewhere in the middle, but Clarke trusted them and knew they’d be honest.

“It started with that mess with Bellamy.” Marcus begins.

Clarke dug her nails into her palm under the table and willed her face not to betray any emotion.

“I don’t think we need to rake over that.” She says evenly.

“Then your dad died and we went from four trainers to one.” Sinclair says. At her frown he adds, “Miller went with Bellamy.”

“The loyal guys gave us some time to get back on our feet and your dad’s guys stayed, happy to be coached by me when I could, but Bellamy and Miller’s guys went with them.”

“And that was fine at first, they were a couple of kids with bags operating out of the park,” Marcus says, “but then they met Paxton McCreary who had a gym but no trainers and suddenly they had a space and equipment.”

“Who the fuck is McCreary?” Clarke asks, the name she’s never heard taking her out of the story.

“It’s not important but what is important is that instead of a couple of kids in the park they were suddenly training and fighting again.” Marcus says.

“And they were good.” Sinclair adds somewhat unnecessarily.

Clarke could remember Bellamy boxing as if she’d seen it seconds not years ago, she didn’t need to be told he was successful she knew it the same way she knew the world was round. It just was.

“After that I did my best, but I’m an old man Clarke. I could barely train my guys let alone the ones with your dad and I certainly didn’t have time to find new talent.” Sinclair says bitterly.

“I tried, I really did.” He adds sadly.

“I know.”

“Griffin’s doesn’t really need the money that training and fights brought in,” Marcus tells her, “but without that it’s nothing anyway.”

“So you agree my mom should sell.” Clarke asks dejectedly.

There’s the tiniest of pauses, less than a second before Marcus answers diplomatically, “It’s her decision.”

“But you don’t think it’s the right one?” Clarke presses.

“That’s not what we’re saying.” Sinclair replies, “you shouldn’t underestimate the strain everything over the last few years has had on your mother.”

Clarke knows he’s including her in the ‘everything’ part of but she doesn’t really have an argument, she’s too busy working on a plan.

“Hypothetically speaking how long would it take Griffin’s to be turning a profit again?” Clarke asks Marcus.

“It really depends.” He evades.

“On?” Clarke presses.

“How many people you’ve got to pay on payroll, if you’re doing fights or just training. There are a lot of variables.”

Clarke nods, but she doesn’t let it put her off.

“Say that we could get a couple of good trainers and stage a fight, something big that would bring in money, would six months be long enough.”

“If you couldn’t do it in six months, you wouldn’t be able to do it.” Marcus replies.

“That’s not a no.” Clarke grins, “So, I’ll keep the homefires burning so to speak, make sure the place is open each day, blah blah.”

Without letting them speak she looks at Marcus and says, “You can run the numbers, see if there are savings to be made or what else other than closing we can do.”

“I-” Marcus starts but Clarke has already fixed her piercing blue stare on Sinclair.

“You must know some trainers who would want to come and work with you or at Griffin’s? You’re fucking legacies.”

“You’re so like your dad.” Sinclair sighs, but there’s a small smile playing around his lips.

“That’s not a no.” Clarke grins at him. She turns to Marcus and tilts her head inquisitively.

“Six months, not a day more. In fact by the end of Feb you have to be successful.” He concedes.

“Yes!” Clarke triumphs.

“And you have to convince Abby. We do nothing without her say so.”

“Sure, no probs! This will be great.” Clarke smiles.

She knows better than to push her luck though, so makes her apologies and tells them she has to leave. Marcus stands to let her out of the booth and she gives him a hug of thanks once she’s standing.

Sinclair stands and hugs her and tells her he’ll be in touch.

“Great,” Clarke smiles as she heads off leaving the two men facing each other in the booth.

She gets less than five steps away before she whirls back and says to Sinclair, “Oh and can you find me a fighter, someone good. I’ve got an idea.”

He just frowns at her, which Clarke takes as agreement.

“Thanks, bye!” she trills leaving the two men alone.

“Did we just get Griffin’d?” Marcus mutters.

“It was like the power of Jake and Abby all at once,” Sinclair chuckles, “I feel practically punch drunk.”

“I wondered why she suggested this place, but now I’m glad she did.” Marcus says, flagging the waitress, “Two beers and two Jamieson’s. Thanks.”

They get their drinks and pick up the whisky, “To Jake.” Sinclair nods.

“To Jake,” Marcus toasts, taking a sip of his drink and savouring it before adding with a wry smile, “And to Clarke I suppose.”

Sinclair laughs as he adds, “And Clarke.”

+

Clarke is excited. For the first time since she’d come back to Chicago she has a plan and people on her side. She knows it will work, she believes it.

Six months was long enough to get Griffin’s back to its former glory. It was this excitement that compelled her to try and tackle the second part of her mental to-do list: make amends with friends.

If Clarke had been a little less jubilant after her meeting and thinking a little more clearly she probably wouldn’t have gone straight over to Raven’s apartment. She probably would have called first or at the least considered if she still lived there. But she didn’t, which was how she found herself early evening pressing the buzzer that, thankfully still, said Reyes and waiting.

As she waited with the last of the evening sun beating down on her the earlier excitement and hopefulness begins to drain out of her. Why would Raven be home at 7pm on a random Thursday Clarke thinks scornfully to herself, she is probably at work or out with friends. Friends who didn’t leave.

Clarke turns and heads down the block wondering what the quickest way back to her place is that won’t leave her at the mercy of Chicago Transit Authority. She is checking her phone when a motorbike roars past. Clarke thinks nothing of it except to put her phone away. This part of town might not be that dangerous but it’s better to be safe.

“Clarke?” A familiar voice calls from behind her.

She turns around and there, clad in jeans and black leathers with a motorcycle helmet under one arm, is Raven Reyes. She looks exactly as Clarke remembers her, beautiful and a fierce, framed by the golden light like something out of a movie.

“Raven!” Clarke exclaims and runs up towards her to hug her coming to an abrupt stop when Raven doesn’t move. Or look particularly happy to see her.

“What the fuck?” Raven says in a voice that lands somewhere between angry and confused.

“Hey,” Clarke smiles softly, “I’m back in town for a bit and I wanted to say hi.”

“You wanted to say hi.” Raven mutters incredulously under her breath not looking at Clarke.

“How are you? I didn’t know you rode a bike, that’s awesome. How long have you had it?” Clarke rambles trying to fill the silence that is hanging between them.

Raven is just staring coldly at Clarke likes she’s a puzzle she can’t work out.

“How have you been?” Clarke tries again, “Are you still working downtown?”

Raven shakes her head and turns towards her front door, opening her jacket and fumbling in the inside pocket for her keys.

“Seriously, you’re just going to ignore me.” Clarke snaps.

Raven whirls around to look at her and expression of pure anger on her face.

“How long is a bit?” Raven asks.

At Clarke’s blank expression she adds, “you said you were back for a bit. How long is a bit?”

“I, uhh, I’m not sure. I have a couple of things to sort.” Clarke says carefully.

“A couple of things to sort,” Raven repeats bitterly, “right. Well, see you around.”

With that she turns on her heel and enters the apartment leaving Clarke standing alone on the sidewalk.

She didn’t think Raven would welcome her back without an explanation but she’d been expecting more than that.

Clarke’s good mood has vanished but as she sets her shoulders and walks towards the L stop she’s undeterred. Under her jacket Raven was wearing a tee that said Reyes Motors. Clarke will make sure they see each other again. She wants her friend back.

+

“Six months, that’s all I’m asking.” Clarke pleads.

Abby paces the living room occasionally glancing at her daughter.

“I have a plan.” Clarke tries.

“I know, you told me. The second I walked in the door.” Abby sighs.

Clarke shrugs, it was true. She’d pounced when her mother walked in hoping that it would be easier to just get on with it. So far she couldn’t tell what her mother was thinking. Jake had always worn his emotions on the surface but Abby could always maintain a façade when it was necessary. It was one of the ways the two of them were alike.

“It’s a good plan.” Clarke tries again.

“And if it doesn’t work, will you just move on.” Abby asks.

“Yes.”

Abby raises one impeccable eyebrow, “Really Clarke, you’re going to spend six months pouring everything you have into Griffin’s and you’ll be ok with walking away if it doesn’t work.”

“I’m hoping it will work.” Clarke admits. “But if it doesn’t, at least I know I tried.”

“I want to speak to Marcus and Jacapo.” Abby tells her.

“Thank you!” Clarke exclaims jumping up and hugging her mother.

“This isn’t a yes Clarke, it’s a maybe.” Abby says pulling back from her daughter, “There are conditions.”

“Of course there are.” Clarke grumbles flinging herself on the couch like a petulant teenager.

“I will speak to Marcus and Jacapo and get their opinion but if they’re happy I will take down the listing on the gym. I will keep paying the utilities for the next six months and you don’t have to pay rent so any money you make you put back into the gym.”

“Of course.” Clarke agrees, sitting up slightly.

“And finally, if it doesn’t work-”

Clarke starts to interrupt but Abby holds a hand up to stop her.

“If it doesn’t work you don’t get to just up and leave again. You don’t have to stay in Chicago but you can’t just disappear again.” Abby says moving over to sit next to Clarke, “That’s non-negotiable Clarke, I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.” Clarke mumbles. She looks at her mother and feels a pain in her chest when she sees Abby’s eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“I mean it mom, I won’t just go again.” Clarke promises taking her mother’s hand.

Abby squeezes Clarke’s hand and nods.

“Right, I’ll call Marcus and Jacapo. See if they want to come over for dinner, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the chance to lobby me en mass.” Abby smiles as she stands, before adding firmly, “You get six months, that’s all.”

“Thank you mom.” Clarke smiles back softly. “That’s all I need.

+

"Ready?" Bellamy asks holding up the pads.

"Ready," Octavia nods, raising her arms.

The siblings lock eyes for a second and then they move. Octavia swinging her arms, one two, one two, each time connecting the opposing fist with one of Bellamy's pads.

"That's it. Come on O." Bellamy encourages, backing up moving across the mat so she has to follow him.

"Faster. Duck. Move your feet." The instructions come thick and fast and Octavia changes her form to follow what he's saying. Her arms are strong and her feet are fast but Bellamy is still frowning. They keep going, the sweat dripping down Octavia's braids, Bellamy less sweaty but still with his own faint gleam. The gym is almost empty and the only thing other than the sound of glove hitting pad is the loud bass from whatever Miller put on earlier.

"Done." Octavia sighs after ten minutes, bending in half and letting her head fall forward.

"Come on O, you have more in you."

"I really don't." She sighs, standing back up and taking deep breaths. 

"The fight's next week, you need to train."

"I'm aware of that and I am training. It's not my fault that you guys are all in demand." She replies scowling at him and lifting her right glove to tear at the tape.

"You should be sparring against someone closer to your weight class. It's one thing to do pads or footwork with me, Miller or Lincoln but you need some ring time."

"I'm getting plenty of ring time." She replies, "It's not my fault that Charmaine decided she hated your boss more than she liked fighting."

Bellamy scowls like he does any time the recent departure of one of the two female instructors at McCreary's Fitness comes up. He'd tried everything he could to convince her to stay but ultimately Octavia is right, Charmaine found out about some of McCreary's less-than-ethical side projects and decided she couldn't be party to it, even though the gym itself is completely above board. Bellamy made sure of that.

"She's not the only female instructor." Bellamy tries, following Octavia over to the benches at the side of the room where her kit is. They pass Miller who is doing his warm down on the bag, the rhythmic sound of his hits filling the space.

"As far as I'm concerned she is," Octavia fires back.

"Look, I get it you don't like my girlfriend but it's a little pathetic to put yourself in danger just because you don't want to spend time with her," Bellamy snaps.

"Nice to know you think so highly of my skills big brother," Octavia deadpans.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face.

"I'll have you know that I'm training plenty and even if I wasn't that wouldn't be enough to convince me to hang out with her."

"She has a name you know."

"Oh I know, but just like you refused to call Lincoln anything other than that guy when you found out we were dating, I refuse to call her by her name."

"I've admitted I made a mistake, can you not get over it already. I like you and Lincoln together now, so learn from my behaviour."

"Not the same thing and you know it." Octavia spits.

This is a well-worn argument and Bellamy knows better than to keep it going, he should just back off now, especially after their fight the previous week, but he's tired and genuinely worried about Octavia, which is why he pushes it.

"If you'd just give her a chance. It's been six months I think you've made your point."

Octavia just scoffs as she shoves her gloves into her bag and pulls on a sweatshirt.

"You're behaving like a child."

"Oh that's rich." She snaps, standing up and glaring at her brother.

The sound of Miller hitting the punch-bag has stopped but neither of them has noticed. And Miller, who has had years of reading the moods of the Blake siblings, has wisely gone to another part of the gym so he doesn't have to be a witness to the brewing fight – or worse, get involved.

"You and I both know why I don't like her."

"It was years ago and she's apologised."

"Yeah, because she wanted to hook up with you. The timing was a little suspect don't you think, she waits until you're sad and vulnerable and swoops in."

"You make her sound calculated. It wasn't like that and you damn well know it."

There’s a heavy pause and Bellamy can almost see the effort his sister is putting in to not saying what she wants.

“I’m not having this fight again Bell, didn’t we go through it enough last week when you told me that I was no good.”

“That’s not what I said and you know it.” Bellamy snarls, his mind flashing back to the fight a week ago.

He knows Octavia is thinking about how that fight ended just as much as he is.

“Look, I just want you to be your best.” Bellamy says with some effort.

“I know but I can’t get past what happened. I know you think it was an accident and I get that you forgave her but I can’t.” Octavia says.

“You won’t even try.” Bellamy grumbles.

“Do you know why I wanted to train with you tonight?” Octavia asks and continues without letting him finish. “I thought it could be like old times, we train, then get a milkshake together.” She smiles softly.

“We still--” Bellamy starts.

“I was going to tell you that Lincoln proposed and I’ve said yes but it seems like all we do is fight these days and I’m tired.” Octavia sighs, "So how about we both stay out of each others life then. We can pretend we're just people who train at the same gym."

"O, that's not what I meant." Bellamy tries, still reeling from the news that his sister is engaged.

"I’ll see you around big brother," Octavia says bending down to grab her kit bag and walking away from him.

+

“You don’t get to dictate this.”

“I’m not trying to.”

Raven scoffs but doesn’t spare a glance at Clarke, choosing instead to continue tinkering around under the hood.

“Yes you are, it’s what you do. You’re a control freak but you can’t control this.”

“I’m not trying too, honestly. I just want my friend back.”

Raven does stop what she’s doing then, she wipes her hands on the rag sticking out of her back pocket and leans on the hood of Clarke’s car and looks at Clarke. Her look is cold, she’s sizing her up.

Clarke does her best not to quell under Raven’s gaze and to not frown back, even though it’s what she wants to do instinctively.

“You just want your friend back.” Raven starts, Clarke nods but knows it isn’t really a question, “but that’s the thing Clarke, you want it now. When you’ve decided. What about nine months ago when I met Shaw, the first person I’ve felt a proper connection with after all that shit with Finn and Wick. Or when I was trying to decide whether I could afford to open this place on my own. Where was my friend then?”

“I-“ Clarke starts.

“Or how about when Octavia got injured in the ring. When she was in a coma and we thought she was going to die. Where was my friend then when I was trying to hold Bellamy together.”

Clarke blanches at that, she didn’t know.

“Or what about the non life threatening things. Like when a film came out and I wanted to see it with my best friend. Or the time Murphy had his nose broken by a girl and I laughed so hard I cried. Or when was clearing out my room and found your Daughter cd that I swore I didn’t have.”

“Raven-“

Raven ignores Clarke’s plea, “I wanted my friend back then, but I couldn’t have her. Ever since the day I went by Griffin’s only for your mom to tell me you’d gone and she didn’t know where to find you. I haven’t had my friend. And now you have the fucking cheek to try and force my hand when you left for years without a word. You don’t get to do that.”

Clarke doesn’t know what to say, how to make Raven understand, because when it’s all laid out like that there is no defence. She is in the wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

The look that Raven gives her apology would make grown men whither.

“Your car is done,” she says turning and slamming down the hood, “I know where you live. If the day comes that I’m ready to talk I’ll find you. If you pull another stunt like that I’ll chop your car for parts.”

And with that Raven leaves the workshop, leaving Clarke alone with her car.

“It might not seem like it but she missed you.” A voice says from above Clarke. She looks up to see the man she met earlier, Shaw, leaning on the upper level.

“How much did you hear?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not. She hates me.” Clarke pouts.

“Can you blame her? I might not have been around for the original blow but I’ve watched them all try to heal.”

“I didn’t mean to be away for so long,” Clarke says weakly.

“But you were. So you need to give her time.”

“I know, I just…”

“It’s not your call,” Shaw interrupts.

“Yeah,” Clarke replies dejectedly. “See you around maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Shaw answers and retreats back into the office as Clarke gets in her car and drives away.

“You shouldn’t have brought her here.” Raven snaps when Clarke has gone, coming into the office and sitting on the window ledge.

“Her car was broken.”

“You can fix a damn spark plug in your sleep. You were meddling.”

“Maybe.” Shaw grants.

“Well don’t.”

“I know you missed her.” He says softly.

“I did, but it’s bigger than you think. She left and unless I know she’s really back I don’t want any part of it.”

Shaw doesn’t really have an answer to that. Clarke had already been gone for over a year when he met Raven, like he told Clarke, he saw the aftermath not the impact. But he knows it was bad.

“I’m sorry babe.” He says softly going over to her and standing in front of her, his arms winding around her. He leans in for a gentle kiss before pulling back.

“Want to go beat shit up to feel better?”

Raven laughs, which was Shaw’s intention.

“Fuck no, boxing is where this mess all started. Let’s go get drunk.”

“You know you never need to ask me twice.” He grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her behind him.

+

Bellamy is already at the bar when they enter. Sitting in his usual seat at the end, alone, and scowling at the world. Selfishly Raven is glad, she’s had enough of being the messenger between those two to last her a hundred lifetimes and wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. But judging by the fuck off force-field surrounding him, she won’t have to.

“You look how I feel.” She sighs plopping down next to him, Shaw gives Bellamy a bro nudge on the shoulder as he sits on Raven’s other side.

“I’m not really in the mood for company,” Bellamy says, barely glancing up from the beer he’s drinking.

“Good. I’m not in the mood to be companionable,” Raven smirks and Bellamy laughs softly despite himself.

They’re silent as Shaw flags down the bartender and orders some drinks.

“To be honest I thought I’d find you here.” Raven starts.

“Am I that predictable.” He huffs.

“No just, it’s easier to take in with a drink, right.” She sighs wryly holding up her beer and tipping it towards him before taking a long drink.

“I guess. To be honest I was kind of expecting it but that doesn’t make it easier.”

“You were expecting it, really?” Raven asks shocked. They don’t talk about Clarke much, hardly ever these days, which is enough to know that it was still a sore subject.

“Yeah, you weren’t?”

“Fuck no! I didn’t have a clue.”

“Really?” It’s Bellamy’s turn to be surprised, “it’s been a couple of years.”

“True. I guess I just thought we’d have a hint before.”

Bellamy shrugs, “I get why they wouldn’t tell me in advance, the surprise is part of the fun right.”

“Wait? What are you talking about?” Raven has finally caught on to the fact that they seem to be having two different conversations.

“Lincoln and Octavia are engaged.” Bellamy tells her with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

If Raven was a little more on top of it, a little less thrown by the last few hours and was thinking a little more clearly, she wouldn’t just blurt out what she says next.

“Clarke’s back.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything right away. His hand tightens slightly around his beer and he just blinks at Raven. It’s that non-reaction other than the slight clench of his jaw that she sees that makes Raven realise how tactless she was.

“Shit, sorry. I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you were drinking alone.”

“No, my sister…” He trails off.

Raven looks at Shaw who just shrugs, he doesn’t want to get involved in this it is not his business.

“I’m gonna play a round of darts.” Shaw says dropping a kiss on Raven’s shoulder and patting Bellamy on the back as he walks past.

“I’m sorry.” Raven sighs.

“Why are you sorry?” Bellamy huffs.

“I should’ve given you more of a lead in and not just blurted it out.”

“I don’t think there’s anyway to lead in to ‘your ex-something who you haven’t seen for years is back.” Bellamy admits, “Ripping the band-aid off was probably for the best.”

Raven grimaces at his harsh tone.

“It’s ok, honestly Raven.” He sighs, “How long has she been back?”

“I’m not sure. A week, maybe more. She came by my place a couple of days ago but I ignored her and then tonight she undid the spark plugs on her crappy car and called Shaw to give her a tow back to the shop so I had to talk to her.”

Bellamy chuckles low and a little bitterly, “sounds like her. Never could just wait for things to come to her.”

“I was pretty pissed at her, I don’t think she’ll be coming round again anytime soon.”

Bellamy nods. They order more drinks and it’s only been a couple of minutes when Bellamy speaks again.

“How did she look?” He asks quietly, like he doesn’t want to admit he cares, that he’s interested.

“A little tired maybe but the same. Her hair is shorter now.” Bellamy nods not looking at Raven staring down at the bar, she adds with a shrug, “She looked like Clarke.”

He nods and they sit in silence for a moment, both of them in their own worlds.

“It was good to see her,” Raven admits quietly, “I am still so fucking mad at her for just leaving but I can’t pretend it wasn’t nice to see her stupid face again.”

“What a fucking day.” Bellamy grumbles.

“Yep,” Raven nods and puts her head on his shoulder, “Tell me about Octavia.”

+

Bellamy doesn’t want to stay at the bar after Raven has dropped her bombshell. He doesn’t want to be around people. She tries to persuade him but he stays long enough to finish his drink and then begs off. The look she gives him as he says he’s heading home is part pity, part worry – an expression he hasn’t seen from her for a long time.

When he gets home he wishes he’d stayed at the bar. His apartment is too quiet. Normally he likes it, craves it even. After spending all day at the gym with the noise of the bags, the people, the music, his home is a little sanctuary, even when his sister had still lived there he’d been able to carve out a space that was all his. But tonight he wants a distraction.

He contemplates calling his sister but given how things are between them he doesn’t want her to come over just because she feels sorry for him.

His finger hovers over Echo’s number but it feels disloyal somehow. He’s sure she’d understand, she’s his girlfriend, she loves him and she’d been there when Clarke left, she knew the impact it had but he didn’t want her to feel like it was a shadow over their relationship, because it wasn’t. He hadn’t been pining for the last two years – his history with Clarke is separate to his current life with Echo.

Eventually he settles on Miller’s number and presses call.

It’s not late, in fact Bellamy thinks as he glances at the digital display on his microwave Miller might still be training. He himself would normally still be there if hadn’t left early because of his sister.

Bellamy is just about to hang up when Miller answers.

“Sorry man, was just getting changed. What’s up?”

Bellamy pauses. Now that he’s actually about to speak about it he doesn’t know if he can.

“Blake?” Miller asks as the pause stretches.

“Sorry, uh... Clarke’s back.” Bellamy rushes out.

“Right.” He answers instantly, adding after a beat, “fuck.”

Bellamy chuckles wryly.

“Pretty much.”

“I can be with you in fifteen. Twenty if I stop for booze. Am I stopping for booze?” He asks but doesn’t wait for Bellamy before answering his own question, “course I am. I’ll be with you in twenty.”

He is there in fifteen. With a six-pack and a bottle of whisky.

Miller doesn’t break any laws to get to Bellamy’s place. Well, not any big ones that he wouldn’t be happy to take the fine for.

It had been Miller and Octavia that pieced Bellamy back together when Clarke left. He knew what this could mean, her being back, for Bellamy to call him like this.

It hadn’t just been about Clarke of course it was everything that had happened. But still as Miller climbs the stairs to Bellamy’s apartment he can’t help but curse Clarke Griffin. They’d grown up together, he knew her before Bellamy but right now he hopes he’ll never see her again. That she isn’t back for good.

“I ordered food too.” Miller says handing the drinks over to Bellamy.

“How did you do that, stop at the shop and get here so quickly? Did you steal your dad’s cruiser again or something?” Bellamy asks with a grin but Miller can see his heart isn’t in it.

“I’m just that good.”

He grabs a beer for himself and Bellamy putting the others in the fridge before going into the small sitting room. Miller moves the usual pile of books and sits in his usual chair, passing Bellamy the beer.

“Have you seen her?”

“Going straight in, huh. No small talk.”

“You know I don’t do small talk. You would’ve called someone else if you wanted a softly, softly, approach.” Miller replies.

It’s true. Miller’s support is unequivocal but it is also straightforward and occasionally harsher than you are ready for.

“No, I haven’t.” Bellamy says, after a beat.

“Spoken to her?”

Bellamy shakes his head.

“So how do you know she’s back?”

“Raven saw her.” Bellamy says and explains what Raven had told him.

Miller listens to the story. Thinking privately that it sounds exactly like Clarke, bullish but not stupid. There’s a reason she went to see Raven first and not a Blake or him. Or even Monty who can hold an impressive grudge despite his generally softer side.

“Do you want to see her?” Miller asks eventually.

“I don’t know.” Bellamy replies tilting his head back on the couch and closing his eyes.

Miller waits.

“I haven’t been thinking about her every moment since she left or anything like that, but after O brought her up the other week she’s been on my mind, sure. But it’s not like I’ve been pining.” Bellamy says raising his head to make sure Miller knows he’s telling the truth. Miller nods.

“I know. But that’s not what I asked.”

“I know.” Bellamy sighs, tipping his head back again.

“It’s ok to want to see her, it’s ok to not.”

“I know that too. I just...” Bellamy pauses, searching for the words. “If she’s back, really back, then I won’t be able to avoid her. And I don’t know that I’d want to.”

“And if she’s not really back?” Miller asks, “if she’s not sticking around.”

“Then I don’t see the point in opening old wounds.” Bellamy admits.

Miller nods, he understands, he remembers how hard it was for Bellamy to get back on his feet. He’d had a ringside seat to the whole thing, from flirting to something that looked a lot like love and then, ultimate destruction. But that’s why he knows it’s not as clear-cut as Bellamy would like it to be.

“We can find out. If she’s already seen Raven someone will know something. She’s probably staying with her mom. It would take us less than five minutes to find out what’s going on.” Miller says practically.

“But why should I. She left me, us. So why the fuck should I do the chasing again?” Bellamy says angrily.

Miller isn’t bothered by the outburst – he was expecting it.

“I’m not saying you have to chase her, only that we have ways of finding things out.”

Bellamy nods.

“As always her timing is fucking spectacular,” Miller snarks.

Bellamy grins briefly despite himself before his face falls again.

“I want to say fuck it. That I don’t care if she’s staying, that I’m not interested in her life that it doesn’t matter.”

Miller nods and holds his empty can up gesturing to the kitchen.

Bellamy nods and continues as Miller goes to grab them another drink.

“And part of me means it. Part of me really doesn’t care.”

“But?” Miller prompts coming back into the room and hands Bellamy his drink. There’s a pause and Miller waits looking at his friend.

“But it’s Clarke.” Bellamy admits eventually.

Miller nods and claps Bellamy on the shoulder as he goes back to his seat. There’s nothing to say to that.

The food arrives and they eat. Finish their beers and talk about other things. About the gym and Octavia, about Shaw and Raven, about anything other than Clarke. But when the time comes for Miller to leave he grabs him in a hug instead of their usual overly complicated handshake.

“Whatever you decide about Clarke. Whatever play you want to make. I’m with you,” Miller tells him before pulling away, “you know that right.”

“I know man. Thanks.”

Bellamy goes to bed, certain he’s not going to sleep. But every part of him is exhausted and combined with the beers when he puts his head down he is asleep instantly. But he sleeps fitfully and uneasily with Clarke weaving in and out of his dreams always a step out of his reach.

+

Clarke’s dad used to tell her that mornings were magic. They were his favourite time of day. He would swear the air was different, stiller. He never once begrudged getting up early to open the gym or, in the years before that, to train – it was his time. It became a kind of game for some of the younger kids to try and get to the gym before Jake. They never managed it. No matter how early they were Jake was always already in his usual spot on the walkway above the ring, cup of steaming coffee in hand.

Clarke did not feel the same way about mornings as her dad. To her mornings were to be endured. The only similarity she shared with Jake is that she also liked to open up alone but that was less about the magic and more that she didn’t want to talk to anyone. In the two weeks she’d been back, she still wasn’t used to getting up to open the gym for the early birds. It didn’t help that she had yet to see anyone walk through the doors that wasn’t a debt collector or realtor. And they tended to avoid early starts.

As she had for the past few weeks, Clarke went through the opening rituals in silence. Only making her first cup of coffee when she was sure they were ready for whoever would walk through the door. And then just as she had done yesterday and the day before that and the day before that she makes herself a huge mug of coffee and sits down to wait.

Across town McCreary’s is already a hive of activity. Bellamy loves mornings he, like Jake, believes in the magic that came with the stillness. But this morning he was not still. He’d been at the bag since 5am. Trying to work out his exhaustion. After Miller had left he’d barely slept and after tossing and turning for hours he decided to just come to the gym and open up early. Officially they didn’t open until six but he was the manager and if he wanted to beat things up before dawn no one would stop him.

Bellamy was still at the bag when Raven arrived. She liked to do the 6.30 class, felt it set her up in the right way for whatever the garage would throw at her.

Usually, if Bellamy weren’t training someone, he’d greet her and sit next to her drinking his coffee as she did her wraps.

“How long has been doing that?” Raven asks Miller as she picks up her tape.

“At least since I’ve been here.” Miller shrugs, before adding, “But I got here at six and he looked like he’d been at it for a while.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” Raven admits.

Miller nods, he keeps watching Bellamy, his form still excellent even when he is punching for the wrong reasons.

“Is she back for good?”

Miller doesn’t have to elaborate who “she” is.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t exactly sit down for a heart to heart.”

“Fair.”

“Who else knows?” Raven asks just as Echo walks into the gym.

“As far as I know only you and me.” Miller tells her following her line of sight, “I haven’t told Monty yet.”

Raven nods and continues wrapping her hands.

“I guess it’s too late to say how much I want nothing to do with any of this,” Miller sighs.

“Maybe it won’t be a thing.” Raven shrugs.

Miller looks over at her and laughs bitterly, “how many times do you think you’ll have to say that before it’s true.”

“I’ll let you know!” She grins wryly before going over to join Echo and start the class.

The gym is made up of two separate training rooms with a connected corridor. One room was for classes, mat training and circuits, the other for bag work and the ring. Raven walks back to the room with the ring, the box as they call, it with Echo.

“You were slow this morning.” Echo tells her.

“Gee thanks.” Raven snarks.

“You were,” Echo shrugs, “Everything ok?”

Raven is sure that if Echo is asking like this she doesn’t know that Clarke is back. Not that it was a secret but it isn’t her place to tell Echo.

“Just didn’t sleep too well.” Raven admits. It’s true, technically. She hadn’t. The reason why didn’t need explaining.

Echo nods and holds open the door for them to walk through to the other room.

The noise was always the first thing that Raven noticed in that room. It wasn’t music, that tended to be in the background but there were instructors calling out moves. The sound of fists meeting bag or pads, of jump ropes hitting the floor. It was the sound of exertion and Raven loved it.

Bellamy was no longer at the bag and was instead at the corner of the ring shouting instructions to one of the younger fighters.

“I’m gonna…” Echo nods towards Bellamy.

“Sure. See you later.”

Raven makes her way over to her kit bag unwrapping her tape as she goes. She can see Miller and Octavia having an intense discussion near her stuff and contemplates not going over, but she has jobs lined up today and can’t afford to hang around in the gym.

“It can’t just be me and Linc. What’s up with him?” Raven hears Octavia demand as she gets closer.

“Ask him if you want to know what’s going on.” Miller shrugs, meeting Raven’s eyes briefly.

“I tried and he said nothing. But I know he was at the bag all morning and I can see from here he’s wound tighter than a spring.”

The three of them turned to look at Bellamy who was drilling one of the younger kids, it was clear even though they couldn’t hear the exact words that Bellamy was being more aggressive than usual.

They watched as Echo went up to him and saw as he practically flinched when she reached him before relaxing and leaning down to kiss her quickly.

“Is it them? Are they fighting?” Octavia asks.

“You could try and sound a little less gleeful.” Raven sighs. She turns her back on Echo and Bellamy who now look to be having a very one-sided conversation as Bellamy focused on the kid in the ring.

“So sue me I think my brother could do better,” Octavia fires back.

“I do not need to hear this again,” Miller grumbles, “Later Reyes.”

Raven waves absently.

She understands Miller’s desire to exit the conversation. The animosity between Echo and Octavia was long-standing and legendary. Raven knew it was to do with the fight between Echo and Octavia that had put Octavia in hospital but she felt there must be more than that, after all Bellamy got past it. But no matter how hard she pushed, Octavia claimed that was it. Whether it was true or not, Raven knew it was the beginning of problems between the Blake siblings. The thing that made the cracks that were already in their relationship impossible to ignore.

“What’s with him? I’m allowed to not like people,” Octavia begins frowning after Miller.

“Can you not. I know you don’t like her but they’ve been together a while now you’re just going to have to get over it.” Raven snaps, before adding under her breath, “or maybe not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Octavia demands, hands on her hips managing to make her black tank top and leggings look intimidating.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” Raven relents.

“Are they really fighting? Is he ok?” Octavia asks.

“As far as I know they’re not fighting.” Raven sighs.

“Then, seriously what is going on with all of you?” Octavia asks.

“Nothing, I told you I’m tired.”

“In the entire time my brother has been dating her and I’ve been pissy about it not once have you missed the chance to lecture me on my attitude. Not once. So what gives?”

“I just…” Raven trails off, “Just give your brother a break today, ok.”

“I will if you tell me why.” Octavia replies, glancing back over to the ring.

“I have to shower.” Raven says, walking off away from a frowning Octavia.

Raven showers and tries to put it out of her mind. It was bad enough that Clarke was back but she didn’t want to get in the middle of the Blake siblings too.

She realises just how preoccupied by everything she is when she leaves the changing room and almost walks straight into Octavia who was clearly waiting for her.

“Black. Like my heart.” Octavia says with a grin handing over the coffee in Raven’s to-go mug that she normally filled on the way out.

She should have known that Octavia wouldn’t let it lie. In the entire time Raven has known Octavia the younger girl never let anything go.

“Thanks.” Raven sighs.

“Spill. I know something is going on with my brother and I know you and Miller know what it is. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes trying to work out what it could be and then only thing I can come up with is so improbable that I need you to tell me what it actually is so I can stand down.” Octavia says in a rush.

“I thought you two were on the outs?” Raven stalls for time.

“We are.” Octavia shrugs, before adding softly “but he’s still Bell. I still love him. I still worry.”

They are leaning near the makeshift coffee counter in the entranceway of the gym. It is hardly private but it is as good as they were going to get.

“If I tell you.” Raven begins, fixing Octavia with a look, “It’s because I think you deserve to know and because I trust that you won’t use it to fuck anything up.”

“Scouts honour.” Octavia grins.

Raven rolls her eyes and looks around the entrance and hallway to make sure that they are alone.

“Clarke’s back. And I accidentally told Bellamy last night because I thought he knew.”

“Fuck.” Octavia sighs, the humour dropping from her face as she leans back against the wall. “I wondered but...”

Raven watches Octavia’s face as the news settles in and wondered if this is her new role now – Clarke’s reluctant messenger.

“Is she back for good? Is he ok?” Octavia asks quietly.

For a moment the mask was down and Raven got a glimpse of the girl who was not far out of her teens but living a life years ahead of her.

“I don’t know.” Raven replies. Answering both questions in one go.

Octavia nods. And just like that the mask was in place again.

“Thanks for telling me.” With that she was gone, back down the corridor to take a class or hit a bag or whatever it was that Octavia filled her days with.

Raven drinks a mouthful of her coffee and pushes open the doors stepping into the now bright day. Ready to be away from boxing and all things Bellamy and Clarke.

+

Clarke gets a sandwich from across the road for lunch, leaving an optimistic back in five minutes note on the door but if anyone had come to the gym while she was gone, they didn’t hang around.

Not that she was stupid enough to think they did. Her mother was not lying about nobody going to the gym that was for sure.

Clarke eats her lunch in the office, wondering again if there was something she’d missed but she knows there isn’t. Marcus had run the numbers again and agreed with her, if they could get people back through the doors they’d be able to hold on for a bit longer but people weren’t exactly lining up around the block.

She considered calling Sinclair again to see if he’d had any luck reaching out to his old guys or found any new young prospects, but when she’d called him last night he told her firmly that these things take time and Clarke wasn’t so short-sighted that she’d risk pissing him off by calling him less than 12 hours later.

She sits in the chair at the desk, the old creaky wooden chair that was older than she was and spins from side to side. When she was younger she’d spin in circles on this chair until she was dizzy listening to the sounds of the pads, the shouting and her dad – she could always hear him – calling out instructions. Now she could just hear the creaks of the chair.

Because the gym was so quiet the sound of door slamming downstairs sounded like a gunshot, reverberating through the building. Clarke springs out of her chair and out onto the walkway, above the ring, plastering her most welcoming smile on her face.

“Hi, welcome to Griffin’s Gym– Octavia?”

Clarke looks down at the brunette who is clad in head-to-toe work out gear, all in black, with a black leather jacket. She looks intimidating, which had always been Octavia’s default setting, but seems even worse now.

“Hello Clarke.” Octavia says coldly, looking up at Clarke.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asks warily.

“I wanted to see if the rumours were true,” Octavia shrugs looking around at the empty gym, “And clearly they are.”

Clarke doesn’t know what to say, so doesn’t say anything. Chicago is a big city, but their bit of Chicago is small, has always felt small and yet for some reason she thought she’d be able to avoid the rumours and the gossip. She knows it’s naive, but she just hadn’t wanted to think about it.

“Aren’t you going to come down?” Octavia asks.

[SOMETHING SOMETHING SOMETHING]

+

"Can't believe I forgot my wallet, sorry Clarke."

"It's ok. I told you, it gives me a chance to see your place." Clarke smiles, walking in behind Monty.

"We've been here about a year and I think we're just about settled, the first few months were just arguments about furniture."

"Miller gives a shit about furniture?" Clarke asks surprised.

"Oh yes,” he laughs, “Nate has never met a mid-century modern sideboard or uncomfortable looking couch he didn't want to own." Monty fake grimaces.

Clarke laughs, the idea of Miller being into furniture and interiors something she never would have pegged from the boy who once got the both thrown in a holding cell for joyriding.

"This place is gorgeous, the light is insane." She sighs, spinning around and taking in the loft apartment that Miller and Monty share.

"Yeah after that shitty basement that me and Jasper were living in, this was like a dream."

"I'll bet."

"Here it is," Monty says grabbing his wallet, "I can't believe I left it on the side like a fucking moron."

"It's honestly fine."

"I'm a terrible host too. Do you want a coffee or something stronger?" Monty asks.

"I uhh, we could go to a bar or something nearby." Clarke tries, "I don't want to intrude."

"You're not, I offered."

"I don't mind being out, really," Clarke tries, hoping Monty will know without her having to explain that she isn't quite ready to see Miller yet.

"He's out all afternoon Clarke," Monty says shrewdly, "he's at the baseball with, uhh-" 

Monty breaks off awkwardly. 

"You can say Bellamy's name, he's not voldemort." Clarke says dry.

"No, but I know its..." He pauses, "Well, actually I don't know what it is but I assume it's as bad for you as it is for him and we just don't mention you."

Clarke swallows, it's not like she thought that Bellamy was her biggest fan or even that he thought of her fondly if at all – she knows leaving how she did would have hurt him, not to mention all the other stuff – but she didn't think her name wasn't even uttered. 

"Oh," She says weakly when it's clear that Monty is expecting a response.

"What happened Clarke?"

She huffs bitterly, "I am way too sober for that conversation." 

"Luckily, I have booze." Monty grins walking over to the window-filled wall that is letting the light into the room. 

"Wow, you really do." Clarke laughs as Monty opens the cocktail cabinet with a flourish.

"What else would we store in our mid-century modern cocktail cabinet," he deadpans.

Clarke laughs and they're crouching down in front of the cabinet debating whether lunchtime is too early for martini's when the door opens behind them.

"How can they be so shit." They hear Miller complain.

And Clarke knows before she even hears the response, knows before she even shared a surprised, worried, look with Monty, she knows who the next voice will be.

"That feels like a rhetorical question." She hears the deep, gravelly voice of Bellamy Blake reply.

“It wasn’t though, like I get as a team how they suck, I’ve been following them my whole life but seriously I though they were getting better.” Miller says.

Clarke turned and stood when she heard Bellamy’s voice, it was instinctive she didn’t wanted to be crouched down for their first meeting in years. She knows Monty stood too because she can feel him hovering at her side, but she’s not paying him any attention. Instead she’s looking at Bellamy who is looking back at her as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt that is fitted but not tight, stretching across his chest just enough that Clarke can tell he still trains as much as he ever did. His arms looked tanned and his freckles are standing out on his cheeks, a sure sign that he’s seen the sun this summer. She takes this in in seconds as Miller is still talking, notices the cubs cap sticking out of his back pocket and sees that his hair is curling slightly around his ears - the only concession to the overwhelming humidity that seems to not have affected him otherwise.

“Dude, am I talking to myself?” Miller says.

Clarke glances at him then, at the same moment Miller looks up from his phone.

“Monty and… Griffin.” Miller stumbles seeing her for the first time, “I thought you were meeting up downtown?”

“We were. We did.” Monty explains, “I forgot my wallet, like an idiot.”

“Right.” Miller nods.

Clarke doesn’t know if she’s the only one that feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, but she doesn’t think so. Not if the way that Bellamy is standing there stock-still looking at her without looking at her is any indication.

“I thought you were out all afternoon.” Monty says in a somewhat strained voice when its clear that neither Bellamy or Clarke are going to speak.

“So did I but the cubs suck.” Miller shrugs, adding tersely, “I thought you were downtown.”

“Wallet.” Monty replies unnecessarily.

Bellamy still won’t look at her but keeps glancing near her as if he’s trying to build up to it and Clarke finds she doesn’t want that. She’s not ready to speak to him, she thought she’d have more time.

“I’m really sorry, I should go.” Clarke says suddenly.

“Clarke, you don’t have to-“ Monty tries softly and while she knows he means it, she always knows she does.

“It’s fine. It was good to see you again and well, bye,” Clarke says awkwardly before rushing out of the room. The only way out is past Bellamy but there’s enough space that she doesn’t have to get to close to him.

“I thought you said you were out all day.” Monty hisses when Clarke has gone.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming here.” Miller shoots back.

Bellamy still hasn’t said anything so Miller turns to him and puts his hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, “mate, I’m sorry. You ok?”

“Is she back?” Bellamy asks Monty ignoring Miller.

“Yeah.” Monty nods.

“For good?” Bellamy asks.

“For six months at least, she’s got some plan to do with Griffin’s.” Monty tells him honestly.

“Right.” Bellamy nods, “I have to go.”

He spins and heads towards the door.

“Are you ok?” Miller calls after him, “Blake?”

“I’ll call you.” Bellamy waves distractedly as he leaves the department.

“Fuck.” Miller mutters, when Bellamy’s gone.

“Pretty much.” Monty sighs going over to his boyfriend and putting his arms around his waist.


End file.
